


the soul's rosacea spot

by icarusian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Shance, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Illustrated, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Shklance Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 09:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusian/pseuds/icarusian
Summary: Saving the universe is hard. Keeping your relationships in check in the face of it all is just a little harder, especially when the former depends on it.Watching Shiro take the proverbial bullet for Keith (a beam of concentrated quintessence and a chemical called niotem, Lance later learns, used to awaken one's deepest instincts) leaves pride swelling in his heart and, later, the expectation to take care of Shiro's more "primal" needs. However, Shiro starts gravitating to Keith in the same way he gravitates to Lance. Learning to love and let go would be the hardest of all, if only Shiro would let go of him.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> title from the poem "The first thing we love is a scene..." by Angelo Nikolopoulos
> 
> a few things about this fic i'd like to address:  
> 1) i could not have done this without the encouragement of my incredibly talented artist [killy](http://arkilliandragon.tumblr.com/) (whose art is in this fic) and my best friend [sam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiproctan) , as well as everyone in the shklance big bang discord server. thank you all so much.  
> 2) i have not written a complete piece since my homestuck days, so i know that this fic leaves a lot to be desired style-wise.  
> 3) i want to hear any and all opinions, the good, bad, and ugly. i sincerely hope you enjoy this, because i had fun writing it and hope that my writing conveys that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update 11/30: cleaned up and errors fixed

****

“Lance, your left!” Shiro warns before dodging the hit from a drone. The battlefield lacks any significant players; it’s a mere fleet of drones puppeteered by a no-name Galra commander thirsty for glory and gore in Zarkon’s name. Nothing they haven't dealt with in the past, but patience wears thin when important missions get interrupted on the daily by things like this.

The team had been mining for ore on a minor moon when a wannabe Galra officer radioed in and declared Voltron his for the taking; nothing more than an inconvenience. Forming Voltron seemed unnecessary for a mere Galra power trip, so the team divided the fleets, leading them to now.

“Got it!” Blue freezes three ships and knocks them into two passing fighters, her pilot whooping joyously at the small victory. Lance smirks when Shiro narrowly avoids the blasts from a fighter, Lance’s swift movements and showy twists easily drawing in Shiro’s attention like a fly to honey. “I know watching me beat up bad guys turns you on, but don’t get too distracted, baby!” He easily fires Blue’s tail laser to protect Shiro from incoming fighters, then returns to his own fight.

“Good to know you’ll have my back despite my shortcomings,” Shiro calls back teasingly, aiming Black’s jawblade at a line of fighters.

Spartans believed soldiers fought harder in battle for those they loved; Lance figures they were onto something judging by how strongly his flirting with Shiro leaves him energized in even the toughest fights. Keeping the universe safe has always been their main goal, but protecting Shiro has become what motivates him to do his best.

“Lance, focus on your mission!” Keith angrily yells, taking care of his section of the fleet.

“Why aren’t you yelling at Shiro?! He’s the one who got distracted!” Lance counters. Lance is used to Keith’s general discomfort when they’re just acting as a couple, even minutely. The anger, the lashing out, and venomous shake of his voice, though; those, he isn’t used to. But, of course, Keith doesn’t reprimand Shiro. Although they’re not in the Garrison anymore, Keith will always take Shiro’s word over anyone’s, and rarely will he argue with him. Even if Lance has been throwing out better ideas and keeping Keith from doing anything rash lately, he will still (unsurprisingly) ignore Lance in favor of their leader.

“Keith is just politely asking you to get a room, dude!” Hunk helpfully supplies, ramming into the hull of the main cruiser and badly denting it.

“You call that polite?” Lance mumbles to himself, slowing down his attacks as the remaining fighters suddenly retreat. A little unusual, he thinks, but they managed to hinder the general enough that he’s probably too scared to face Zarkon again to ask for more resources without the lions, let alone the whole robot, in hand. “Yeah, keep running, cowards!” he calls after them, doing a couple flips in victory.

“Did anyone else think that was a little weird? Usually they fight until the bitter end,” Hunk asks.

“They likely just realized that victory was far from reach. Princess, do you think we’re safe to finish our mission on the moon?” Pidge inquires.

Allura easily agrees after a quick scan of their surroundings, and in no time at all, the five are back in the hangars stripping off their paladin armor, ore acquired and another victory under their belts.

Lance hopes it’s not the _only_ thing under his belt post-mission.

Speaking of which, he spies Shiro on the other side of the room, helmet tucked under one arm, prosthetic pushing his silvery shock of hair off his damp brow as he comments on Pidge’s performance in the fight. _Damn,_. When he’s done with Pidge, Shiro sets his helmet aside and begins removing his armor, flight suit a second skin over his sculpted muscles and scarred flesh. Lance wets his lips, the sight of his unfairly attractive boyfriend leaving him thirsty for something a little more satisfying than water.

Lance makes quick work of stripping out of his own armor plates, eager to catch Shiro before he runs off to the showers ( _without_ Lance! The nerve of him sometimes). He can already taste Shiro’s lips on his own, practically envision their wet bodies sliding hotly under the shower spray and Shiro’s large hands tugging him closer by his bubble butt. He finally tugs off his last boot and whips his head up to scout out his boyfriend, but immediately notices just _who_ Shiro is giving advice to, and suddenly feels his mouth twist into a small scowl.

Keith feels like nothing more than a distraction for Shiro at present, so Lance pays him no mind when he saunters up to Shiro in the middle of their performance discussion.

“—controlling Red’s speed so you don't overcompensate on turns, alright?” Shiro pauses when Lance swings his arms around his neck, suggestive face resting on Shiro’s shoulder and staring right at Keith. He stays silent, gauging his rival’s reactions. Keith seems indifferent at first, listening carefully to what Shiro has to say— until Shiro comfortably rests a hand on Lance’s waist and rubs his thumb warmly over his flight suit. Lance actually feels a little bad for the displeased frown that appears on Keith’s face, but the thought passes when Shiro begins to speak again. “Do you think you can do that, Keith?” Shiro finishes, turning his attention to Lance before he hears Keith’s answer. “Did you come for your turn in the lecture hall?” Shiro teases.

Lance broadly smiles, beaming up at Shiro with bright eyes, glad to finally have his attention. “If we’re on the subject of coming—” he starts, before a bony ass hip-checks him mid-sentence.

“Oh, sorry, did I interrupt your pillow talk? Please, by all means, continue running your gross mouth in a room full of people,” Keith sneers as he continues on like he didn’t just call Lance out for the second time that day. Lance rounds on Keith in anger, because honestly—

“What’s your _deal_ Keith?! First the fight, now this!” Keith should just tell him if he wants them to dial it back a notch, not make passive-aggressive remarks at him and walk away. But of course Keith can’t talk anything out like a normal person!

It takes him by surprise, how quickly his irritation fizzles out when Keith drops his tensed shoulders, head turned downward.

“Keith?” Shiro hazards, reading Keith’s body language like his most cherished book. Shiro’s caught onto something unspoken and palpable, and Lance doesn’t understand the sudden jealousy pitfall bubbling at his core.

“I’m fine, Shiro. Just not used to seeing you so…” But the train of thought stops there, and he sighs dejectedly under his breath like a punctuation.

“We’ll keep the PDA to a minimum. Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” Lance numbly answers. Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong. Keith seems satisfied with that answer because he says nothing more and stalks off, likely to be alone.

“Why doesn’t he like me, Shiro? I thought we were finally getting somewhere!” Lance asks, hushing his voice so Keith can’t hear him as he walks away. Upsetting Keith always leaves a shameful taste on his tongue, so he really does try his best to be cool around Keith! His teammate-rival-friend is just easy to upset, that’s all. Lance hardly needs to speak a word to set Keith off lately. Just being in the same room as Keith when he and Shiro would lay on the couch, or fight with the bots on the training deck, or simply make dinner together never failed to sour Keith’s mood and Lance just can’t understand how they reversed so much of the time they spent steadily building a solid relationship.

“I think I might know what’s up. But I promise Lance, Keith likes you,” Shiro answers thoughtfully. “We’ll talk about it later,” he assures, tugging Lance to him in a warm embrace.

Shiro manages to call in his tides with arms securely wrapped around his middle and a raspberry popping against his neck like bubble wrap. Lance can’t stop from uselessly flailing in his hold, legs kicking and lungs weak with laughter. Shiro always knows how to defuse the mood, but Lance keeps Keith in the back of his mind, thoughts lingering on how to make it up to him. For now, though, Shiro holds him close and kisses lightly over the spots where he blew raspberries, easily giving in to Lance’s contagious desire for affection.

“I propose we hit the showers, the bed, then the kitchen,” Lance suggests with a slight eyebrow wiggle. The rest of the team had vacated at this point, the previous tension too awkward and personal to stick around for. Before he can let himself think too hard about Keith, Shiro delivers a quick kiss to his sweaty temple and smiles devilishly at him.

“Showers, bedroom, _and_ the kitchen? That's too much for one day, don't you think?” he teases. Lance feels giddy for having unearthed this side of Shiro, where he lowers all inhibitions and indulges himself in simple pleasures like teasing and dirty jokes. Shiro doesn't smile as often as Lance wishes he did, so to see Shiro offering them more and more is worth the entire Galra empire, if you ask him.

“We’ll see how tired you are after the bedroom, now won't we?” Lance replies, and leads them to the shower.

⁂

“Look down, Lotor.”

“Ezor, is all this tugging really—”

“Necessary? It is if you want to kill time before Narti and Acxa come back with their intel from the fight! Now tilt your head down, you're making the knots loosen,” Ezor chides as she loops more of Lotor’s hair into a crown of braids. Ezor insisted upon giving Lotor a crown fit for a prince while Narti and Acxa did observational research on the paladins mid-fight.

“Zethrid, have they notified you of their return yet?” Lotor impatiently questions.

“Acxa says they'll be back in two vargas. The battle went fairly quickly, according to her initial report, but they had to avoid a lot of firepower in order to keep up their observational position near the battlefield. Wish they'd hurry up so we can start forming a solid battle plan with their intel, though,” she growls with impatience that matches Lotor’s.

“Seconded. Any other scraps of good news from the briefing?”

“Lion movement tracking, weapons utilized, minor feed taps, paladin miscommunication…” Zethrid mumbles as she scans the briefing.

“What was that about the paladins?” Lotor whips his head around with interest, earning a surprised yelp from Ezor as she keeps her hold on the prince’s hair.

“It’s stated here that two of the paladins are mated, although one of their fellow paladins does not appear satisfied with their relationship,” Zethrid reads. “However, their performance was unhindered in spite of their teammate’s dissatisfaction. Ha, imagine if they had tried to form Voltron like that. Doesn’t their ability to do so depend partially on their bond as a team?” Zethrid wonders aloud.

“It most certainly does, Zethrid,” Lotor agrees with a devilish smirk. “Open communication with the commander they fought. We’re going to take Voltron down from the inside.”

⁂

Their shower consisted of mutual handjobs while Lance’s conditioner set, which Lance was totally satisfied with. Lance quickly learned that Shiro wasn’t kidding when they teasingly discussed the order of places they were planning on defiling, judging by how quickly he led them to his room after a quick toweling off. The minute they were within the walls of Shiro’s bedroom, Lance made quick work of tugging down the sweatpants Shiro haphazardly threw on after their shower and pinning him to the door with insistent nips and sucks on Shiro’s throat.

“Thought you wanted to hit the bed after the showers,” Shiro breathily taunts while getting a hand on Lance’s own loose sweats. Lance huffs out a laugh before pushing them down and messily sucking a hickey to the base of Shiro’s throat. He knows their flight suits will cover the mark, which gives Lance all the more reason to mark Shiro up.

“Consider the door a detour,” Lance replies. Shiro shoves a toned thigh between Lance’s legs as his mouth works on another love bite, but Lance falters as he starts to messily grind down on the hard curve. He's the one that was supposed to get the upper hand on Shiro, not the other way around. Of course Shiro just _had_ to win over his focus with one solid thigh between his legs because Shiro plays dirty in the bedroom. “Or— we could hit the bed, yeah, _yeah_ ,” he encourages as Shiro grabs two handfuls of his ass, thigh never faltering in its slow rhythm against Lance’s lower body.

Shiro wastes no time in leading them both to the bed, just as eager to get this show on the road as Lance. He easily covers Lance’s body, knees bracketing Lance’s thighs and hands by his head. Lance brings Shiro down for a sharp kiss, teeth tugging at his upper lip and Shiro’s tongue gliding against where their mouths connect. Lance gasps and tries to follow Shiro’s mouth for another kiss when he pulls away abruptly and begins to slowly thrust against Lance’s hip. Irrationally, Lance just thinks _Forget foreplay,_ he wants that in him like, two vargas ago.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Shiro hushes against his ear. Lance grins and sweeps his hand through Shiro’s hair, tangling his fingers in the longer strands. When Shiro pulls out the _baby_ card, Lance can get away with asking for just about anything and Shiro will bend to his will without fail. As if skipping foreplay with _Shiro_ is even an option.

“Well, I _did_ just get clean... Eat me out?” Lance questions with mock innocence. Shiro responds with a low moan at just the thought, and Lance swells with pride when Shiro quickly turns Lance over and gets him into the position that he wants. Lance is practically preening at how reverently Shiro treats him, running his hands up and down Lance’s skin like he just can't get enough.

Lance pushes his ass out and nuzzles his cheek into the pillow as Shiro grips his ass and pulls his cheeks apart. For a moment, Shiro just waits, breath fanning unsteadily over his hole and fingers kneading into the meat of his ass.

“Enjoying the view?” Lance prompts, wiggling his hips a little in anticipation. Shiro sounded pretty eager to do this not two seconds ago, or so he thought. What the hell is taking him so long? Shiro hums thoughtfully and rubs the pad of his thumb against Lance’s hole, eliciting a startled gasp from him.

“You seem to want it pretty badly, huh?” Shiro muses, dipping down to just barely brush his tongue where Lance is throbbing for it. “Beg for it, Lance.”

Lance’s blood runs hot at the words, but he refuses to surrender control, not when Shiro is so keyed up from the mere suggestion.

“You’ll do it whether I beg or not, but nice try,” Lance responds, proud of his ability to curb submission, despite what’s at stake. The chase is what always leads up to some of his and Shiro’s best escapades, the exchange of power passed like a baton between them.

It’s something he's always loved about his and Keith’s dynamic.

Before he can expand upon that thought any further, Shiro brings him back into the present with a resounding _smack_ against his ass. He lets out a startled cry, feels proper admonishment in the heat of his cheek.

“And here I thought you were going to be good for me, baby,” Shiro chides softly, rubbing his flesh hand thoughtfully over the unabused cheek. Getting Shiro to incorporate a little corporal punishment in the bedroom took some effort on Lance’s part in the beginning, Shiro just too afraid of hurting Lance (absolute sweetheart that he is), but it was well worth it when Shiro held back nothing and gave him everything. Lance could wax poetic about the things those hands did to him.

“You know what would be _good_ for me? Getting my ass eaten,” Lance smarts back, a little winded from the first unexpected hit. He can play this game if Shiro wants, but he’s always going to come out on top.

Another heavy smack hits his ass and he moans loudly, internally pleased he goaded Shiro into continuing the rough treatment.

“You seem to like this just fine. Count for me, then we’ll see if you deserve to be spread open on my tongue until you’re _really_ begging for me to take you,” Shiro demands darkly.

He shivers involuntarily, bracing for what has to be Shiro’s final hit, and succumbs to feeling. Even if Lance survives whatever Shiro has planned for him, he's not sure he'll be able to make it to the kitchen afterwards.

⁂

“So,” Shiro starts, catching his breath, “you too tired for the kitchen?” Lance grumbles back a groggy _no_ , but nuzzles further into Shiro’s neck anyways. Shiro’s hand strokes up and down the planes of his lover’s clammy back and Lance shivers pleasantly at the treatment. With someone like Shiro, Lance is almost ready to call the aftercare the best part of sex.

“Let’s make a pit stop at the bathroom before we start raiding the fridge,” Lance suggests with a short yawn. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to feel a little too crusty for comfort.” Lance smacks lazy kisses into Shiro’s nape, humming contentedly when Shiro’s roaming fingers brush a little too close to his side.

“But if you get up, I’ll be a little too cold for comfort,” Shiro counters, hiding his smile in Lance’s hair.

The word _love_ pings across Lance’s mind for the third time that movement alone, and he feels a flutter in his chest at the idea of truly confessing to Shiro. The thought of admitting something like that to his patient boyfriend without knowing if he’s ready to admit it to himself feels like jumping off the diving board before taking a swimming class, or taking a test without studying; he just isn’t ready. But the look on Shiro’s face every time Lance imitates his gunshots during battle, and the way he touches him with such care and reverence as if it’s their first time holding hands makes him a little less afraid to jump in headfirst.

“If you rinse off with me real quick I’ll walk on your back before bed,” Lance offers; a distraction as much as it is an obligation.

“Deal.”

⁂

Shower number two was a brisk affair until Shiro took it upon himself to shallowly finger Lance open once they finished rinsing off. Lance couldn’t find it in himself to complain, not when Shiro whispered praises the entire time and pressed tender kisses between every loving sentence to the spot just behind his ear. Lance hushed his moans under the pounding water, and Shiro just pulled him closer as he came down from his high.

 _“Kitchen?”_ Shiro had playfully asked as they pulled on their casual wear, to which Lance’s stomach responded with a loud gurgle.

_“Kitchen.”_

Lance is endlessly pleased when he finds the kitchen empty, already plotting out where they’re going to scratch off the last item on their “where to-do” list, but for now, he is grateful for the quiet domesticity of just sharing a meal together.

 

“Allura wants us to go back to that moon tomorrow,” Shiro says conversationally when their chit-chat comfortably lulls. Lance groans woefully around his last spoonful of food goo; the moondust covered his suit in a fine grime, plus the ore they excavated was heavier to haul back than they’d anticipated.

“Was the fifty tons of ore we brought back not enough for the castle upgrades?” he asks with a pinch of sincerity and plenty of sarcasm piled on top.

“Evidently not; Coran says another couple hours of the same pace we kept today should restock us enough. I’ll have Keith fly in to find us a more stable mine if possible; Hunk was almost caved in and we can’t risk something like that happening again,” Shiro answers with a twinge of regret. He looks thoughtful, as if considering some other mines from the map Allura gave them pre-expedition.

Lance sighs and dramatically stands to take their bowls back to the sink because he is _not_ excited to play coal miner for another mission, no matter how valuable the resources may be. He’s a paladin after all! He can’t give speeches in the future saying, “Mining for moon rocks in the far reaches of outer space made me who I am today. We could have never won the war without those long days of mining.”

Lance shakes his head in order to make it just a little smaller; this is all part of the job, it's important, he _knows_. He stops brooding on the chores and makes his way back to the table only to see Shiro and Keith quietly talking in their own little world, Keith taking up residence in Lance’s chair, their bodies angled towards each other for a more intimate conversation. Lance mourns the loss of having a quickie in the kitchen as he’d hoped; he had like seven pick-up lines ready that involved calling himself ‘dessert’! His jealousy flares up briefly, but he isn't jealous of Keith holding Shiro’s attention so raptly; rather the opposite.

When Shiro and Keith come together, they have this sort of tangible bubble around them. Lance always feels like a third wheel when he attempts to spend time with the both of them because they can read each other’s body language so fluently, and it's all Greek to him. It seems to be important but Lance never knows when to stop when Keith is involved.

Fortunately, Lance has chewed enough gum in his life to know just how to pop bubbles.

“—important enough for you to spend some time—” Whatever Keith was about to say is abruptly cut off when Lance plops down in his lap, looking at Shiro like nothing happened.

“Excuse you, I was in the middle of _speaking_ ,” Keith angrily comments with a hard bounce of his leg; a futile attempt to shake Lance off. “Why are you sitting on me?” Lance twists his body slightly to face Keith, but the angle is a little awkward. However, he refuses to give up his seat.

“One, you're in my seat, and two, are you Beetlejuice or something, dude? We only said your name _once_ and you magically appeared in the few minutes it took me to take dishes to the sink,” Lance counters as if it's the most obvious justification for sitting on someone.

“This isn't _your seat_ , I didn't see you sitting in it! Go sit on the other side of Shiro if you want a chair by him so badly!”

Lance lifts one leg over Keith’s whole body to fully straddle Keith so they can properly argue; his neck is starting to hurt from craning it.

“It's about the sacred territory that comes with one's chosen chair of the day, not about Shiro—”

“For _once_ — _”_

“Guys!” Shiro barks from behind them, clearly upset at Lance’s petty interruption and Keith’s attitude spurred on by aforementioned offense.

The angry clouds around Lance’s emotions clear away at the sound of Shiro’s commanding voice reprimanding him, and he can feel his ears begin to burn with shame and embarrassment, especially given his current seating arrangement. Keith isn't in much better condition, only he's staring harshly at Shiro over Lance’s shoulder.

Lance scrambles off Keith and takes a deep breath, reflecting on what just took place. He's rightfully embarrassed, and doesn't want Keith or Shiro to be mad at him.

“I… Sorry, man. That wasn't really cool of me, to interrupt you when you were trying to talk to Shiro. I know it was probably important,” he apologizes shyly. Keith flicks his gaze to Shiro briefly; _Is he getting Shiro’s nonverbal approval to accept my apology or something?_

“I forgive you,” Keith responds. Anytime Lance has apologized, they always just said, “It’s okay,” when in fact it _wasn’t_ okay in Lance’s eyes. To be genuinely _forgiven_ for something he wrongly did on impulse feels validating, to say the least, and by Keith no less.

“Thanks, Keith. I got up to take our dishes in and when I came back, you just kind of dethroned me out of nowhere, dude,” he tries to joke.

“Dethrone you? What branch of royalty are you, Prince of… Bad Jokes?” Keith's mouth twitches up in amusement at his own _terrible_ joke, but Lance is just shocked at how quickly his anger and irritation fizzled out.

“If I'm the Prince of Bad Jokes, then Keith my man, you are the _king._ ”

Shiro snorts from behind Lance, and they both whip around to see him holding in genuine laughter at their banter. Shiro never did know when to stop being diplomatic. His face scrunches unattractively but he manages to smooth his expression in a matter of seconds. The younger paladins exchange a quick glance before Keith busts his gut with a harsh laugh-out-loud, grin spread ear to ear.

Lance can feel his lungs deflate in a split second upon seeing Keith’s emotions change so suddenly, but it’s from something far from laughter. Shiro will rescue him from this foreign mixture of emotions toiling in him, provide an adequate distraction from the new flush warming his cheeks. When he turns, however, Lance feels the need to throw Shiro a life preserver and call a helicopter rescue team.

His skin is doppled with patches of light red highlighted by the barely-there dimples punctuating his fond grin. Shiro’s eyes are shining with mirth and tenderness at seeing Keith in such a genuine, emotional state. It's brief, as Keith's bout of amusement, but it's enough for Lance to nudge Shiro back to their initial conversation and hastily retreat to his own room for a long, well-overdue session of wall-staring contemplation, and a nap to curb the exhaustion he feels sinking into his heart.

⁂

That night, a frantic knocking at his door snaps Lance from his slumber; metal-on-metal could only be one person, especially this late in the ship’s sleep cycle.

“Sorry I woke you, but I really don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now,” Shiro explains hastily once he’s tucked under the covers with Lance curled protectively around him. Lance can feel how hard his heart is beating, and the clamminess of his forehead when he soothingly kisses it. Lance instinctively begins scratching at his scalp like he would a timid animal; it must’ve been a bad one this time.

“I’m more worried about breaking your rule about sleeping together the night before a morning mission,” Lance teases, rubbing at Shiro’s back in a weak attempt to ease the knots there. “Don’t apologize for waking me up. I’d’ve been mad if you hadn’t,” Lance hushes more seriously. Shiro nods quickly, and Lance can hear how short Shiro’s breath is coming. He’s shaking and leaving Lance’s shirt crumpled under his tight grip. “Wanna talk about it, or play a game?”

“Game,” Shiro immediately answers. Shiro is still shaking harshly, and his metal hand scrambles minutely over Lance’s shirt, then grips, repeating this multiple times. He must be having a hard time discerning his nightmare from reality, Lance thinks with a frown. He’s gone nonverbal, only letting out pained noises and breathing harshly through clenched teeth.

“Shiro. Shiro, listen to me, it’s Lance. We’re on the Castle of Lions in my room. You’re nowhere near the monsters that hurt you. Tell me your name and your current position,” Lance entreats. Shiro once told him that open-ended questions helped him because it allowed him a sense of control; something the Galra never gave him. Lance never stops petting Shiro, providing him comfort and tactility where his dreams held none. He wonders briefly if Keith ever helped Shiro through this kind of thing before they started dating, or if Shiro went through it all on his own.

“I’m… I’m Takashi Shirogane, Black Paladin and head of Voltron,” he answers with a shaky breath. His fingers stay rooted in Lance’s bed shirt, but his shaking goes down significantly once he accepts his words as reality.

“You forgot to say ‘Lance’s hero and super hot boyfriend’,” Lance gently reprimands.

“That too,” Shiro responds, briefly squeezing Lance in a tight hug. Lance feels like Boyfriend of the _Deca-Phoeb_ for being able to bring Shiro out of his worst nightmares. Honestly, what would Shiro do without him?

“You better now, babe?”

“I… think so. We can start the game now,” he says, slowing his breathing by sucking in through his nose and blowing out through his mouth. A pointer from Lance, passed down from his mother when he had bad dreams as a child.

“Rate your first kiss on a scale from chastity belt to dog drool,” he starts with a huge grin.

“I’d have to say it was a solid nipple slip, if we’re being honest,” Shiro quietly laughs. He leans a little closer to Lance after answering and Lance inwardly swells with pride at being able to calm Shiro like a proper boyfriend.

“What does that even _mean,_ Shiro?” Lance chuckles, clearly not expecting that from him.

“It was an accident but it got me half-hard?” Shiro answers, almost uncertain. Shiro catches the laughter that spills from Lance, and it sounds much too loud for their current setting, but it’s joyous, lighthearted, and unmistakably real, especially to Shiro. He presses an impulsive kiss of gratitude to Lance’s jaw, rush of affection slowly chipping away his privy fears.

“My turn,” Shiro starts once they’ve calmed down. “Greatest fear?” he murmurs against Lance’s warm throat. They tend to do this after Shiro desperately crawls into his bed post-night terror; Lance always lulls the darkness that taints his thoughts, their game of twenty questions or pillow talk giving Shiro the security his mindscape lacks.

“Losing my family. Not just the ones I left back home, but the team, too. You especially,” Lance easily answers. His fingers sift through Shiro’s hair as if combing sand for a precious seashell, fingertips catching on Shiro’s ear every now and then. “So, I guess by the transitive property, my greatest-worst-biggest-deepest fear is losing you.”

 

⁂

 

They call it a day when they reach their ore quota, and Lance is relieved at the prospect of going back to the castle and showering. Their Galra foe from yesterday, however, declares once more how he plans to seize Voltron, and they’re once again showered with fire just outside the moon’s atmosphere. Lance is rightfully pissed at this guy for delaying his self-care once again and throws himself into the battle alongside his team. It goes as well as yesterday; no real fight, just a nuisance to take down. Shiro uses Black’s jawblade to finish off the battle cruiser and watches it blow to smithereens, but he warns the team to stay alert and suspicious.

“That was almost too easy. Don’t let your guard down, team,” Shiro cautions, ever the leader. Lance swoons and flies his lion to rest at Shiro’s side, Blue taking it upon herself to nuzzle up under Black’s muzzle. Lance thinks he hears one of his teammates make a slight gagging sound over the comms, but he chooses to ignore it, pleased with his lion’s actions. He’s not the only one who likes showing off, apparently.

“Shiro, I highly doubt there’s much more to this than that Galra cronie wanting a promotion by aiming for the only thing Zarkon cares about,” Pidge says flippantly, easing Green to fall in line with the rest of them.

  
“Pidge is right. You worry too much, gorgeous. You’ll get forehead wrinkles if you keep it up,” Lance flirts over the comms. “Do you want a massage when we get back? I can—”

“Will you please keep that _gross_ shit to your own comms, Lance? Not all of us want to hear you call Shiro _gross_ names and talk about the _gross_ couple things you’re going to do later, you know. Can you be considerate of the team for once in your life?” Keith pops up on Lance’s screen, mouth raised in a slight snarl, eyes fiery and brows creased deeper than Shiro’s when he’s recalling a nightmare. He’s taken aback, but confusion immediately takes the form of offense. Why is Keith so upset about it?

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think—”

“Of _course_ you didn’t stop to think—”

“Guys, please don’t do this now, the Galra could be planning something like Shiro said!” Hunk interjects worriedly. Lance can’t hear Hunk over his and Keith’s increasing shouting match, his focus trained on just _defending himself_ to Keith so he doesn’t look like an inconsiderate—

  
“Keith, Lance, enough! Lance, I think Keith is just… trying to say that he’s a little uncomfortable with the blatant displays of affection,” Shiro loudly interjects, shutting them up and giving Keith a pleading look. Lance is a just _little_ upset that Shiro yet again interrupted their argument. Did Shiro ever stop to think that _maybe_ he and Keith needed to work out what was wrong every once in a while? Just because Shiro and Keith talk things out doesn’t mean he and Keith don’t have their own way of talking (even if it involves more yelling than actual communicating).

Keith pauses and holds Lance’s defiant gaze on his screen before letting out a long sigh and looking away before he reluctantly answers. “Yeah. That. Thanks, Shiro.” Keith’s expression falls into something sad before he mumbles something about heading back to the castle. Something about the way Shiro was able to quell Keith’s outburst leaves him feeling left out, but he can’t place his finger on it.

Red turns to fly back just before Lotor’s ship makes itself known by dropping its cloak. Before Lance can process what’s happening, Lotor has a quintessence beam ready to fire; and it’s aimed straight for the Red Lion. The team hardly has any time to react, Lotor successfully pulling the rug out from underneath them. Lance curses and starts to frantically fire up his ice beam in an attempt to counteract the beam the Galra prince has prepared, but something bodily shakes Blue’s hull as it veers past her.

Shiro knocks past Blue, causing her to fire the minute energy in the ice beam at a nearby meteor, and crashes into the Red Lion just as their enemy fires the quintessence beam.

“ _Shiro!”_ Lance and Keith shout in unison as they helplessly watch their leader endure the impact meant for the Red Lion.

Lance is stone compared to the rest of the team; Hunk braces Yellow for impact and smashes the beam at its root to abruptly stop its traction. Pidge and Hunk hurriedly haul the offline Black Lion back to the castle but Lance is suspended in space, the sheer gravity of potentially _losing Shiro_ preventing him from moving Blue. There's no time to worry about facing Lotor or his team now, despite the Sincline's leisurely retreat; the beam was obviously their only objective, spiking his anxiety to an all-time high.

“Lance, we gotta go, come on,” Keith panickedly nudges him in the direction of the others to get him moving again. Lance shakes his head and sucks up his tears before racing to the hangars. He’s grateful Keith is safe, but he knows Keith won’t forgive himself for Shiro’s sacrifice for quintants to come, even if he is alive.

 

⁂

 

Shiro passed out after enduring the blast of concentrated quintessence originally meant to hit Keith. With Hunk’s help, Pidge rushed Black and her silent pilot back to the hangar, but Lance knows Black would be in much more of an uproar if Shiro was truly gone. God knows his worst fears are already rushing to the forefront of his mind as he stumbles out of Blue’s jaw and into Black. Keith isn’t far behind him, just as eager to check Shiro’s status as Lance is.

“He’s alive,” Lance says, fingers pressed delicately to Shiro’s pulse point.

“Let me see,” Keith quietly demands. Lance moves to the other side of Shiro’s chair and sits Shiro up a little straighter, grasping his hand as Keith presses his palm to Shiro’s cheek, just like when they first found the Black Paladin on Earth. “You are one tough, idiotically brave cookie, Takashi,” Keith hushes with a relieved smile.

  
Lance suddenly feels like he’s witnessing something he shouldn’t, but he can’t stop openly staring at Keith’s fond gaze, more familiar and personal to him than he could have ever imagined.

“Help me lift him. He needs a healing pod,” Keith addresses Lance, already pulling one arm around his shoulder. The cogs stop turning in Lance’s head for now and his focus goes immediately to Shiro. He dumbly stutters out an affirmative before assuming the same position as Keith.

“This is the part where I introduce myself and you tell me you don’t remember me, if I’m not mistaken,” Lance jokes as they exit Shiro’s lion and hastily trek to the cryopods.

“Save the jokes until after we get Shiro to the pod,” Keith grunts back after huffing out a short breath of amusement. Lance is just happy he made Keith feel a little better.

⁂

 

The reality of death in war is all too easy to forget when the victories outnumber defeats, but do not outweigh them. Losing Shiro would be like waking up from the daydream he spent too long basking in, but the pod’s vital readings and Coran’s reassurance keep Lance from thinking too hard.

“He’s going to be okay.” Lance isn’t sure who he’s reassuring at this point, but he knows Keith is grieving as if Shiro had actually died. Lance doesn’t blame him for what happened out there, even if Keith thinks he does.

Lance matches Keith’s grim gaze with his own intensity of reassurance and faith, because Keith tends to beat himself up over things like this; things he can’t control no matter how hard he wishes he could.

“It should have been me, not him. It’s _always_ him,” Keith counters, turning his gaze back to Shiro’s resting form. After every bus Shiro’s been thrown under, Keith would take on a train if it meant keeping Shiro from suffering any longer. “I could have been paying more attention. I _should_ have been paying more attention.”

“Listen, man. I bet when he pops out of that pod, Shiro is going to give us all a big hug, and he isn’t going to be mad at you. He saved you because cares about you, probably more than you know.” His heart jumps when he finishes, breath stuttering out and eyes a little wider, especially when Keith adopts a surprised yet fond expression at his words. _Quite the admission, Lance. Recognition is always the first step._ Of course Shiro cares about Keith, you didn’t need to be a Galra spy to make that deduction. _I could have just said because he’s part of the team, or because you’re friends, why phrase it like that?_

“He hasn’t been acting like it,” Keith jabs quietly. “Ever since you started dating, he hasn’t made any effort to just—to even eat a simple meal with me,” Keith vents with a sharp glare at Lance. “It’s like he doesn’t want to see me anymore now that he has you! Am I _that_ replaceable?” he finishes angrily, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Do you think it’s because Shiro is worried _you_ don’t want to see _him_?” is Lance’s instant response, his brain not immediately registering how much Keith seems to really resent the fact that he's dating Shiro.

It seems to catch Keith off guard because he just stares at Lance with blatant shock at the question.

“Shiro… thinks I don’t want to see him?” Keith repeats, baffled.

“You didn’t hear it from me!” Lance defends. “He just… knows how upset you are that we’re dating, which I still don’t get, kind of, but he thinks if you see him less you won’t have to think about it,” Lance explains more seriously. Keith is biting his lip in concentration, looking off to Shiro’s cryopod with a longing look in his eyes.

“Of course I want to see him. He’s the one constant I’ve had in my life. I don’t want to lose him just because he’s happy with you,” Keith admits. The way he tacks on _with you_ at the end has Lance staring intently at his teammate. What does Keith mean _with him_? Would it be different if Shiro were dating someone else, or if he was just happy without Lance?

“Do you hate me _that much_ that—” Lance starts angrily.

He's cut short by the familiar sound of a healing pod hissing open, cryogenic frost chilling the air for a brief moment. He and Keith abandon their conversation for now to rush forward and catch him together, and it reminds them once again of first night they began their journey as Paladins of Voltron. Shiro blinks up at them both, still disoriented.

“Hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” Lance gently flirts, making eye contact with Shiro. He feels a little awkward with Keith right there, but he wants Shiro to wake up from his pod-nap feeling good.

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro breathes reverently. Those beautiful eyes lock onto Lance like targets and he’s forcibly pushed up against the now-empty cryopod by the most _feral_ kiss Lance thinks he’s ever received from Shiro. Geez, he remembers being tired and disoriented after his emergence from the pods. Maybe it’s different for everyone?

It’s over much too soon to be satisfying, only a coal thrown into blaze. Nipping teeth and storm clouds gone as soon as they came, Lance can merely watch, starstruck and dazed as Shiro instantly turns to gather Keith into his arms just as fiercely and hold him like _he_ was the one in the pod. Keith is too shocked to reciprocate, especially after admitting to Lance how he really feels about the whole situation. “Keith, you’re okay,” Shiro sobs, pulling back to hold Keith’s face and gently stroke his cheek with a thumb.

The fire from that kiss dies in Lance’s heart and blood, suffocated by the numbing black ice bursting through his skin. Lance doesn’t know what that beam did to him, but Shiro holds Keith— _looks at Keith_ —like he does Lance.

This isn’t some shocking revelation; or, it shouldn’t be. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Lance always refused to acknowledge the way Shiro and Keith regarded each other, whether they were aware of it or not. Even after their argument yesterday, Lance could tell Shiro wanted to pursue Keith but he held himself back in favor of staying with Lance.

No wonder Keith is so upset at the development of their relationship.

Lance knows better than anyone what it feels like to be replaced, and he can’t stop mentally smacking himself for making Keith, his irreplaceable rival and hopefully future friend, feel that way.

He resolves to talk to Keith sometime soon because he needs to fix this. For now, he runs to get the rest of the team where they’re running diagnostics on Black in the hangar.

He runs, and runs, and runs, Shiro’s kiss burning his lips and Keith’s words burning his brain.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the positive feedback i received on the first part was so overwhelming, i decided to clean up and post the second half. warning: i feel like this is, like, extra dramatic, and fast-paced, but i definitely had fun writing certain scenes. thank you for all your comments and kudos; sometimes free stuff is priceless.

“You’re going to make yourself throw up if you keep walking in circles.” Lance thought he was the only Paladin awake, but he forgets about Pidge’s erratic sleep schedule sometimes. 

“Better stay clear of me then. My good aim isn’t limited to just guns, you know,” he weakly retorts. He’s waiting for Coran and Allura to finish analyzing what was in the beam that hit Shiro, which translates to pacing anxiously outside the lab until it’s finished. 

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘a watched pot never boils’?” Pidge asks, ignoring his gross remark. She plops down against the wall and opens her laptop. “Why aren’t you in bed with your boyfriend? He could probably use the comfort after today, you know.” 

Lance gives up and takes a seat next to her, snuggling up shoulder-to-shoulder. “He wanted to have a sleepover with Keith tonight,” Lance mutters petulantly. His cheeks feel flushed admitting it, but it’s true; Shiro could not physically pull himself away from Lance _or_ Keith after he came out of that pod. He sat between them as he ate goo to refuel, asked them to hit the showers with him, and proposed that they stay with Keith tonight when Lance tried tempting Shiro away to his own bedroom. 

 _“It wasn’t just scary for me, or you, Lance. He needs us too,”_ Shiro had said with a gentle shine in his eye, to which Lance had put his foot down. The rock in the pit of his stomach felt about five times heavier when Shiro had posed the idea because Lance knows the signs of his impending replacement by heart. 

The ache of watching his middle school best friend move onto another, more calm boy in their grade hurt, but he was able to make new friends. Losing his spot as the baby of the family when his baby sister was born stung, but he got over it when his mother started needing his help with the newborn. Even being rejected countless times by different girls he _swore_ he was in love with can’t compare to the mere thought of Lance losing Shiro to his rival-teammate-frenemy. 

At least Keith is probably happy. 

Pidge raises her eyebrow minutely but elects not to rub salt in the obvious wound. “Hm. He probably just wanted to make sure Keith wasn’t too badly shaken up.” _And what about me? His_ boyfriend? Lance wants to whine, but then he remembers how he made sure Shiro didn’t worry about him, how he went out of his way to assure Shiro that he was fine because his boyfriend was fine. “Are you scared he’s going to cheat on you?” Pidge asks with a mischievous grin. 

“Are you kidding me? Shiro picking a mullet over a manicure?” he vainly remarks, shooting Pidge a self-assured smile. 

“I’m kidding, Lance. You and I both know Shiro is too loyal for that; he’d at least break up with you first.” Pidge doesn’t realize how deeply she just planted the seed of doubt in him, but he tries not to let it show and instead rests his head on hers as she taps away at decoding more prisoner logs. 

“Yeah, he’d never do something like that.” _Would he?_  

⁂ 

“Are you sure you want to stay in here tonight?” Keith asks after he comes back from brushing his teeth. 

“Of course I am, Keith. I was really scared I was going to lose you today. We had no idea what Lotor had planned,” Shiro responds from the bed. He’s already taken it upon himself to press himself to the wall side of the bed, lower body under Keith’s blankets and elbow resting on Keith’s pillow to prop his chin up. 

“Speak for yourself, Shiro,” Keith responds with a chuckle. Shiro watches, content, as Keith heads to his closet and pulls out a few more blankets and pillows, but sits up a little when he starts arranging them on the floor like a pallet. 

“You’re not sleeping with me?” Shiro asks, disappointment flooding his face. That’s what he had planned from the beginning in suggesting he (and Lance) sleep in Keith’s room for the night;  What did Keith think he meant? 

“I— Do you want me to…?” Keith asks carefully, gazing up at Shiro with curious eyes. Shiro is bewildered that Keith would even have to ask. 

“Yes! Why else would I ask to sleep in here if I had no intention of sleeping with you? Do you think I ask to sleep in Lance’s room expecting blankets on the floor?” Shiro asks, amused. Keith isn’t the best at picking up on cues sometimes, but this is ridiculous. 

“You and Lance are dating,” Keith points out with a frown. He rises to put away the bedding anyway, and sits cautiously on the edge of the bed when he’s done. 

“You’re thinking too hard. Hit the lights and come to bed,” he replies easily, settling down and getting comfortable in Keith’s bed. Keith is acting too cautious for Shiro’s taste. They’re supposed to be winding down from the hectic after-mission they endured, but Shiro can feel how tense Keith is when he slips under the comforter, shoulders hunched and body uncomfortably angled away from any contact with Shiro. There’s no way he can sleep if Keith is this strung out from just sharing a bed. “Are you okay?” he asks, moving one hand to rest on Keith’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“I’m fine, Shiro. Just go to sleep.” A blatant lie. 

“I would if I knew you were okay,” Shiro responds, tone low with a twinge of sadness. “Keith, please talk to me,” he pleads. 

Keith whirls around to properly face Shiro, his desperate expression barely visible in the dark room, lit only by the neon cerulean lining various corners of the room. 

“You want me to talk to you _now_? After you took a bullet for me? What is talking going to accomplish, Shiro? I’m sure tomorrow you’ll just go back to spending all your free time with Lance and Allura and everyone on the team but me!” Keith accuses harshly, unable to stop the fire once the match is lit.  “And now all of a sudden, you get hit by some energy beam and you want to spend time with me? Did that laser finally get your head out of Lance’s—?” 

“Keith!” 

He knows he went too far. He knows, but can’t find it in himself to regret it. Not when he finally has Shiro alone and a place to really tell him how he feels. 

“That was uncalled for, and you know it,” Shiro admonishes quietly before continuing. “I’m… I’m sorry that you’ve felt ignored. Honestly, I never meant to hurt your feelings. He wasn’t ever supposed to take your place, and he never could,” Shiro gently explains, bringing one hand up to Keith’s hair and gently stroking it. “As soon as I noticed how unhappy you got when either of us were blatant about our relationship, I started to avoid you to spare your feelings. I see now that was the wrong thing to do.” Shiro continues to lovingly stroke Keith’s hair, idly twisting it around his finger as he apologizes to Keith fully. 

Happy endings don’t exist in Keith’s world, as Shiro is well aware. But Keith is staring at him with such wide, forgiving eyes that Shiro thinks Keith must feel like he’s dreaming, and that the bubble will pop anytime now. 

“I missed you, really, but you know how touchy Lance can be,” Shiro jokes, soothingly pushing Keith’s hair out of his face. 

“Yeah,” Keith idly replies, brain still caught up in Shiro’s admission of genuinely missing him. 

“Start hanging out with us, together and individually,” Shiro offers, shifting to pull Keith to his chest like it’s the most natural thing between them. Keith wonders if this is what Lance gets to have every night; he tries not to think about it and fails. 

He isn’t about to complain, though; Keith huffs a little smile into Shiro’s chest, arm coming around his back and breath rushing out as he feels Shiro’s fingers press soothingly into the stress knots mottling his shoulders. 

“Won’t Lance be upset that I’m cockblocking?” Keith asks dreamily, melting into candle wax under Shiro’s touch. 

“Lance likes having you around, don’t worry about it,” Shiro hushes into Keith’s hair. 

He briefly panics in realizing he’s _cuddling_ with _Lance’s boyfriend_ in his _bed_ , but lets himself relax once more in Shiro’s hold upon remembering that they aren’t exactly being romantic; at least in Shiro’s eyes. What would Lance think if he was here to see how Shiro held Keith like a stuffed animal, the Red Paladin cherished and warm in Shiro’s embrace? What were Shiro’s plans if Lance had tagged along as he had originally planned? 

“You’re thinking too loud,” Shiro murmurs before pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Keith’s head, as if that could silence the impending thunder in his thoughts. 

⁂

They’re at breakfast when Coran announces the results of the lab test. 

“It was a quintessence particle beam mixed with a diluted form of a military-authorized chemical by the name of _niotem_ that hit our Black Paladin,” he says with a tired yawn. Coran had stayed up all night with Allura to get the results back from their tests, something Lance is truly grateful for. Shiro perks up next to him and squeezes his hand, as if remembering something dreadful. 

“You’re not serious, Coran,” he asks, disbelieving and a little scared. Now Lance is starting to really worry; he bounces his leg and starts thinking of all the things he’s wanted to with Shiro before they died and now he thinks he’s only got about 72 hours to do it all. 

“Afraid so. To those of you who are unfamiliar with this chemical combination, it is used to completely lower inhibitions of the subject and bring their inmost urges to the forefront of their decision-making skills,” Coran informs helpfully. Lance and Keith share a wary glance from either side of Shiro, but look to Shiro for any further elaboration. 

“When I was imprisoned, they doped up my opponents with it to enhance their bloodlust and desire for a prize,” Shiro shakily responds. Lance gives his hand a quick squeeze of comfort, frown deepening at seeing Shiro recount his time in the arena. “I don’t think I’ve felt any different. I’d like to ask everyone to keep an eye on how I behave, just for the time being. Coran, how long do the effects last?” 

“I’d say just a few _quintants_ , since it was such a diluted dosage. Fret not, Shiro, you’ll be right as a volcanic rainstorm during the holiday of Triple Sunne by the end of our coalition duties in two days’ time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab a few _vargas_ of shut-eye while I have the opportunity. Work on your hand-to-hand combat today, Paladins; Shiro will lead you in exercises if he feels fit,” Coran announces with another yawn before exiting the dining hall. 

“We’ll resume training like normal. I promise I feel fine, everyone,” Shiro laughs good-naturedly, breaking the silence. 

“Permission to run tests on you if your behavior changes?” Pidge inquires with a mock-salute. 

“Permission granted,” Shiro mock-salutes back. 

To Lance’s relief, breakfast goes without incident, doubts of infidelity washed away when Shiro stops him on the way to the training deck and tilts his chin up for a sweet, searching kiss. 

“Good morning,” Shiro breathes when they separate. Lance’s heart soars when he opens his eyes because Shiro’s are still a dead giveaway of his feelings for Lance. He missed the “good morning” kiss they usually share due to Shiro’s choice of sleeping quarters last night, but Lance feels silly for feeling forgotten, and even jealous. Shiro hasn’t forgotten him; he was just shaken up at the prospect of his best friend in danger. Of course he’d react the way he did yesterday,  what was Lance so worried about? 

Lance pulls Shiro down by his cheek for a peck on the nose and returns the greeting happily, then smacks his ass for good measure as they wander to the training deck hand-in-hand. 

⁂ 

“Partner up, team. Keith, I want you with Lance to help with his short-range combat. His gun won’t always be useful no matter how good a shot he is. Pidge, you’ll be showing Hunk dodging techniques. It’ll reduce the amount of head-on injuries he sustains. I’ll come around and help everyone get in position for your respective exercises,” Shiro instructs. 

“Arms against legs, huh? You got this, Hunk! Make me proud!” Lance calls good-naturedly to Hunk with a thumbs up. He turns to see his sparring partner tossing his crop jacket aside, and the notion of learning something from _Keith_ of all people immediately has him mirroring Keith’s stance with sureness. 

“You sure that’s the position you want to start the fight in?” Lance goads. Keith won’t start anything with Lance, but he’ll gladly rise to the challenge if Lance pushes first, and Lance takes advantage of this unchanging fact at any opportunity. 

“Of course I’m sure; Shiro won’t have to adjust my stance, but I can’t wait to see him completely rearrange yours when he gets over here,” Keith dismisses with a small smirk. _Confident for a guy whose position I pretty much copied,_ Lance scoffs inwardly. 

“Well, we’re about to find out,” he mutters to Keith as he spots his boyfriend striding over to them. And what a _sight_ Shiro is, Lance thinks. He gains a fond smile on his smooth face when he spots them both looking expectantly at him, and seems to puff out his chest when he gets closer. His shoulders are rolled back and he comes to them with a purpose in his step. Is he _posturing_ for them? In any case, confidence looks beautiful on Shiro, Lance decides. 

He chances a glance back at Keith just before Shiro reaches his destination, and is taken aback by the hope he catches in Keith’s eyes. Keith stands up straighter, spreads his legs a tad wider for a proper sense of balance, and seems to hold his breath when Shiro approaches them. 

Lance knows that look better than he knows the inside of Blue; it’s what Lance looked like after getting his tests passed back at the Garrison. It’s what he looks like after a mission as he casually brags to Allura all his minor accomplishments that were all part of the job anyways. 

Keith wants Shiro’s approval. 

Keith wants to make Shiro _proud._  

Some minute lightbulb in Lance’s head flickers briefly, but it dims as turns his focus to their leader. 

“Good starting points, both of you,” Shiro starts approvingly, roving his eyes over each of their forms. Something shifts in Shiro’s eyes, changes as he traps them both. He circles Lance first like a vulture would carrion, eyes suddenly dark and piercing in his appraisal. Lance is used to sharing flirtatious looks in public, locking eyes with his boyfriend and licking his lips in a blatant tease during mission debriefing or over dinner, but he’s never felt so closely examined like a specimen to be dissected and sewn together again. Lance shivers and sucks in a small gasp as Shiro brushes cold metal along his ribcage, causing Lance to stand just that much taller. “Perfect,” he praises lowly. Shiro steps away from Lance, who then releases an anticipatory breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

Then he moves on to Keith. 

Keith’s face would be borderline comical if Lance didn’t so sorely empathize with him. Keith merely stared as he watched Shiro stalk around Lance, ready to pounce and sink his teeth in at a moment’s notice, and now he looks terrified at the prospect of undergoing the same treatment as Lance. Keith’s cheeks are aflame, eyes wide and nervous sweat gathering on his collar. Shiro looks absolutely ravenous as he begins his slow inspection of Keith’s form, gaze scrutinizing, low sounds of assent clouding the air around them. 

If Keith was looking to make Shiro proud, then he passed that goal with flying colors. Shiro looks sinfully pleased with how Keith is positioned, murmuring some choice compliments on Keith’s form like he did for Lance. Lance feels flayed wide open as he unwittingly follows in Shiro’s footsteps, giving Keith a long once-over and slowly noticing details he hadn’t bothered to before. 

The way Keith is trying desperately to keep his preening under wraps when Shiro nods approvingly. The bulk of his arms, no longer hidden by that stupid crop jacket he always wears. 

How he keeps flicking his gaze to Lance, as if searching for his approval as well. 

The bubble encasing them is practically visible to Lance at this point, and he feels his own cheeks flame just watching the intimate way Shiro angles his head to speak in hushed tones to Keith, or how Keith accepts every word, walls down and chin up. 

This must be how Keith feels watching him and Shiro. 

Lance bodily jerks at his own revelation and promptly falls on his ass. 

“Aw, man, you lost already?” he hears Hunk call from the other side of the room. Lance doesn’t think he can properly form a response, not when his brain is underwater and his heart is in his throat. Keith offers him a hand up, and he takes it with a strained _thanks_. However, Keith’s hand stays locked with his, like some kind of prolonged handshake. Lance barely has a chance to react before Keith is pulling him solidly forward and twisting them so Keith has him pinned in five seconds flat. 

⁂ 

When it’s finally over two grueling hours later and Lance has successfully blocked at least ten of Keith’s fierce jabs, Shiro calls for everyone to hit the showers and meet back in the main hall for a coalition strategy meeting. The rest of the team might be hot from their respective sparring sessions but Lance can pinpoint the areas where Shiro intimately re-positioned his fighting stance between rounds: flesh hand pressed on his lower back to straighten him up, guiding pressure on his shoulders to square them, and a swift swat on his ass to raise it. 

Keith received similar treatment much to Lance’s chagrin, but his attention never strayed from Keith’s determined face as he took every piece of advice Shiro had to offer to heart, even when Shiro chose to demonstrate by squaring Keith’s hips or fitting his broad hand between Keith’s slim shoulder blades to push out his chest. 

Shiro still radiated this sexy, commanding aura that would probably give Lance a raging boner if he was alone, but Shiro’s strange behavior douses the embers in his abdomen, if only minutely. He isn’t acting _weird_ , per se, just a lot bolder. Shiro has always maintained this reserved atmosphere when he’s with Keith, often looking like he wants to say something important but can never find the right words. It’s a stupid way of putting it, considering Shiro _always_ knows what to say, but Lance has never felt it his place to ask. 

Now, though, now Shiro looks at Keith and himself like they’re stacks of all-you-can-eat pancakes for just 399 GAC and he’s willing to take a bite from each of them, no hesitation. He caught Keith sending questioning glances his way their whole session, wearing that same ‘tip-of-my-tongue’ look every time because he must notice Shiro’s odd behavior as well. 

“Good work today, guys. You both looked good together, I’m really impressed by your chemistry,” Shiro compliments, lids hooded and pupils darkening his irises. He and Keith looked _good together_? They had _chemistry_? He turns to Keith with a pleading look before getting too lost in Shiro’s seemingly accidental double meanings, but Keith apparently has the same idea because he’s looking to _Lance_ for help decoding all this! He attempts to telepathically argue with Keith, yelling into his brain _“You’ve known him longer, you say something!”_ but his blessed friend Hunk is their savior this time around. 

“Great session, man! Although I wish you had seen how badly Pidge beat me,I could have really used the advice,” Hunk says, giving Shiro a hearty slap to the back. That seems to give Shiro the wake-up slap he needed, because he’s blinking rapidly, dark mist lifting from his gaze and giving Hunk a belated apology. 

“Oh, uh— sorry Hunk! I’ll make sure to keep an eye on your session next time,” he calls after them, Pidge riding Hunk’s shoulders in a blatant display of victory. He turns back to Keith and Lance, wide, genuine smile back in place, and gives them each a ruffle of their hair. “You guys ready to shower?” he asks cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the emotional blender he just put them through. 

“Yeah—” 

“You go on ahead, we’ll catch up. I want to pin Keith down one more time before I’m ready to call it quits,” Lance quickly interjects. _Please buy it, please buy it_ — 

“It’s nice seeing you take the initiative, Lance,” Shiro responds sweetly, pleased. He tugs Lance to his chest, lips insistent on his lover’s for only a fleeting moment and whispering, “Don’t keep me waiting too long,” before retreating with a final heated gaze flicked in Keith’s direction. Lance has to will himself to be strong and _not_ think with his dick for once because there are much more dire things at hand here. 

“Okay, please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks he’s acting funny,” Lance pleads, whirling around on Keith. 

“He’s definitely less… reserved,” Keith agrees slowly, crossing his arms in thought. 

“Exactly! It’s like PDA-shamer Shiro has turned into a hands-on learner, if you know what I mean,” Lance replies with conviction. 

“If the _niotem_ is causing him to act on his ‘inmost urges’ or whatever, and he’s getting a little too close for comfort, then why isn’t he doing that to anyone else on the team?” Lance likes thinking about the ‘why’ of the situation about as much as he likes thinking about Shiro dying. “He’s been treating me almost like he treats you ever since last night,” Keith quietly muses as an afterthought, mouth lifted in a barely-there absent smile. 

“You know _exactly_ why, Keith, don’t make me spell it out for you,” Lance spits bitterly before settling on Keith’s final statement. “What do you mean he’s… treating you like he does me?” 

His stomach drops, and ice replaces his blood when he looks Keith in the eyes. Keith looks properly guilty, eyes blown wide and face drawn down like he just got caught taking Hunk’s last scaultrite cookie. There’s no way Shiro— 

 _“Are you scared he’s going to cheat on you?”_  

“What do you mean ‘ _last night’_ —” 

 _“You and I both know Shiro is too loyal for that; he’d at least break up with you first.”_  

Keith seems to finally register what’s going through Lance’s brain as he watches Lance drop to his knees in utter shock because he immediately follows Lance down and tries to explain before things go from ‘bad’ to ‘FUBAR’. 

“No, no, Lance, calm down, I just meant that— Shiro and I slept together last night and—” 

“That’s a relief, I thought you were about to tell me you two had _sex_!” Lance shouts, getting into Keith’s face. The ice in his veins is boiling hot now and spilling from his eyes, because he can’t believe Keith or Shiro would do this to him. He knew he had a breakup coming the minute Coran explained what that chemical really did to his boyfriend, but he really thought Shiro of all people would let him down gently. “Oh wait! You _did_!” he cries, gripping the front of Keith’s T-shirt in anger. 

“Would you shut up and _listen to me_? We—” 

“I don’t want to hear anymore! I’ve had enough for one day,” he interjects, seething and shaking. What would Shiro have done if he had actually stayed with them? Would he have proposed they have a threesome like it’s no big deal? He pushes Keith down to the floor, leaving his face hurt and indignant, and makes for the door, stopping just short as a bittersweet afterthought comes to him. 

“At least you got what you wanted, Keith.”

⁂ 

Shiro wanders in half an hour later, freshly showered and obviously searching for Lance. Keith is in the same spot Lance left him when he decided to storm out. 

“Lance thinks we slept together in the metaphorical rather than literal sense last night because I didn’t choose my words well and he refused to hear me out when he got the idea in his head,” Keith explains before Shiro has a chance to open his mouth, rubbing his temple and standing up heavily. He can’t comprehend how Lance lives his life with instincts driven by emotion rather than logic.

“He what? Is that why he wouldn’t look at me when I caught him pacing the halls just now? I would never, ever do that to Lance, doesn’t he know that?” Shiro says after letting all the information process. He sinks down on the wall, holding his head in deep contemplation. Keith takes a seat next  to him, arms loosely propped up on his raised knees and head tilted back against the cool metal wall. 

“He _should_ know that, the idiot. You’re not a cheater, and even if you were, I’m not a shitty friend,” Keith argues back. 

“So you admit you’re his friend?” Shiro asks mischievously, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulder and pulling him close. 

“Is that really the takeaway in all this? Lance was right, you _are_ acting funny,” he asks incredulously, but makes no move to push away the comforting weight of Shiro’s body. “You haven’t been this touchy with me since before you left,” he murmurs, leaning onto Shiro’s arm and remembering long nights spent stargazing on Garrison rooftops, shoulder to shoulder with promises of return whispered where only the moon could hear them. 

“I hate to admit this after being so adamant this morning, but I think the _niotem_ is affecting my behavior after all. During training today, I wanted to see the both of you sparring, and so I just _indulged_ even if Hunk and Pidge deserved my attention too. I wanted to sleep with you last night, and so I did. I don’t think I could have stopped myself if I tried,” Shiro admits sheepishly. “Normally I would restrain myself but—” 

“You have to restrain yourself under normal circumstances? Geez Shiro, maybe Lotor did something beneficial for once,” he jokes, quietly watching the way Shiro’s face heats up in embarrassment. His own cheeks feel flushed at Shiro’s admission, because it means Shiro has wanted to do all of those things since before the blast but never acted on them for very _obvious_  reasons. Exhibit A: Lance, the boyfriend. 

“We need to talk to him, but he needs some time alone right now,” Shiro starts after a moment of silence ticks between them. 

“I’m sorry, ‘we’? Aren’t you the cheating boyfriend?” 

“And aren’t you the asshole friend that broke the ‘bros before hoes’ rule? You aren’t innocent in this,” Shiro shoots back smoothly. Did that beam uncap Shiro’s pent-up sass too? “He’s just hurt by a misunderstanding, that’s all, Keith. What did you even say to set this off?” Keith elects to ignore Shiro blatantly blaming him for starting this whole thing. 

“Lance wanted to talk to me about you acting more bold and touchy than usual, I said something like ‘he’s been treating me like you since last night’, and of course Lance immediately remembered that we had a sleepover in my room, thus concluding that you… treated me like you do him in that setting,” Keith ends awkwardly, already feeling his brow crease at the mere allusion to Shiro and Lance’s sex life. 

“I can definitely see where that could be taken the wrong way,” Shiro sympathizes, squeezing his bicep for comfort. “I’ll go see him before dinner. Stop by his room before you go to bed. It would mean a lot to him if you showed him you cared,” Shiro gently explains. Keith still doesn’t understand why it would mean so much to Lance if he dropped by and apologized for upsetting him on accident, but he trusts Shiro, especially when it comes to the Blue Paladin. 

Keith just hopes Lance will actually claim to remember their bonding moment this time around, if what Shiro says is true. 

⁂ 

Lance stays under the shower spray long after his conditioner has washed away, thinking of everything that lead up to now. He sobs to the ceiling, lamenting the irony of the situation. Here Keith was, spilling his guts to Lance about feeling replaceable when he had no idea he was the goal this entire time. 

Maybe this would have been easier if Shiro hadn’t acted like he truly wanted Lance from the start. Maybe, if Lance had just kept all the very obviously pining looks Shiro sent Keith and vice versa at the forefront of his mind, his heart wouldn’t feel wrenched in three. Not only did he lose Shiro, the person who may have been his true first love; he lost Keith too. 

Shiro always gave him undivided attention and actually listened when Lance would ramble about things important to him. He would do face masks with Lance before bed if they had diplomacy meetings in the morning. Lance let Shiro eat his ass and spank him, for crying out loud! He could fill books with all the ways Shiro made him feel like he was someone worth wanting and not just some _bed-warmer_  until the Black Paladin found the right time to act on his glaringly obvious affection for the Red Paladin. 

He turns off the shower, dries his body and tears, and is just glad he never told Shiro he loved him. 

⁂ 

Lance unintentionally sleeps through their coalition meeting and  dinner. He wakes up with cheeks tight from dried tear trails and that bitter, dry taste on his tongue that can only be caused by a lengthy exhaustion nap, stomach rumbling and eyes blinking blearily up at the ceiling. How late in the sleep cycle is it? Memories flood him the second he registers his surroundings, and almost instantly hot tears spring to his eyes, ready to overflow. Shiro slept with Keith because some crazy alien chemical warfare is overriding his logical brain functions and heavily persuading him to give in to his instincts, which are, apparently, focused on acting on some longtime repressed feelings for Keith, and Lance is ready to blow this pity party and give his boyfriend a piece of his mind. Lance springs out of bed, feet stinging on the cool panel flooring, and mentally rolls up his sleeve, ready to throw some verbal punches. 

Shiro needs to know that Lance deserves to at least be broken up with properly. Keith needs to learn what being a friend means (hint: it does _not_ involve sleeping with other people’s boyfriends no matter how much history you have with him!). They need to know that they hurt him. 

Most importantly, he needs to make sure he doesn’t lose them for good. Being ignored by them for the rest of eternity and pretending like nothing ever happened is a worse scenario than having their budding romance shoved into his face all the time, even if it means the little tug in his gut every time he sees them. 

Wow, he really owes Keith an apology after all is said and done. 

He’s about to open the sliding door to his room, a thousand things he wants to say shooting across his brain at lightspeed, heart clogging his throat when— 

 _Knock-knock-knock._  

He pauses, unsure if he should answer it or ignore the stranger until they go away because he’s on a _mission,_ damn it— 

“Lance? It’s me, Keith,” an unsure voice quietly calls out after a moment of tense silence. “Can I come in?” 

“Y-Yeah! Sorry, one sec,” _Abandon ship,_ Keith has yet again ruined his plans to be the bigger person and sought him out first. He supposes he can work with this; They’ll just be in a more intimate setting than Lance pictured! And he’s going to face Keith one-on-one, instead of addressing them both at once. 

He takes a deep breath. 

The door quietly swishes open to reveal Keith already ready for bed, which means it isn’t that late into the sleep cycle just yet. He looks fine, but Lance wasn’t anticipating the downcast look on his face or the permanent tug of his frown. Lance nods once and sits back down on his unmade bed, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see Keith shutting the door and following suit, legs crossed and shoulders slumped sadly. 

“Shiro didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t help Shiro cheat on you,” At least Lance can always count on Keith to get straight to the point. “We literally slept together, as in slept in the same bed,” Keith explains before Lance can get a word in. Lance must look properly dumbfounded because Keith tacks on a fervent _I swear_. He’s almost offended at how easily Keith can just swoop in and usurp every single misconception sending Lance into perpetual misery within a mere five minutes of being in his room. He was expecting a lot more dramatics and a lot less… well, _communication._  

“You have no idea how anticlimactic this is for me right now,” Lance manages with a disbelieving laugh after a few moments of stunned floundering. “Like, I had a dramatic speech prepared for you guys about how I felt, complete with musical numbers and an intermission where we hug it out and everything,” he babbles, voice small and heart lifted momentarily because he just misread the situation, didn’t let Keith talk earlier when Lance’s world was crumbling around him, that’s all. He feels stupid. “I’m sorry, too, Keith. I should have been more conscious of your feelings about the whole situation. I kind of acted like a jerk,” he admits, opening up his posture more to speak with Keith head-on. 

“I forgive you,” he responds, just like last time, leaving a pleased glow settling high on Lance’s cheeks. They’re sort of just staring into each other’s faces, sheepish but relaxed knowing that Lance’s feelings and their reputations had been spared, but Lance can’t find it in himself to break the comfortable atmosphere they’ve created in just a few simple confessions. 

So Shiro didn’t cheat on Keith, and Keith wasn’t the universe’s worst friend. Lance briefly thinks of running back to Shiro and embracing him with remorseful tears before they have super passionate, over-the-top apology sex, complete with rose petals, candles, and a thread count minimum of 800— that is, until he notices a bigger problem at hand. 

“Hang on— Why didn’t Shiro come to do this with you?” he asks, more than a little miffed that his boyfriend isn’t even the one to begin the chain of apologies if he was going to beat Lance to the punch anyways. 

“He was going to come talk to you first, but Allura needed him immediately after dinner for that coalition event we’re going to tomorrow. He really didn’t want you to stew on this too long, and I was going to stop by anyways, so… don’t be too mad at him,” Keith finishes awkwardly, obviously understanding where Lance is coming from. It’s not uncommon for Keith to defend Shiro when someone is about to get the wrong idea, but it’s almost too much to see Keith’s immediate defense of Shiro in person. Shiro is a good person in Keith’s eyes, has always been a sort of guiding light to the lone wolf; he just wants other people to see Shiro how he does. 

He stares into the unadulterated affection overflowing in Keith’s icy eyes as he speaks of Shiro, sword held at the ready to defend him against anything. Keith may as well be the flaming sword outside Eden, preventing any mere, unworthy mortal from even thinking of disgracing Shiro’s good name. 

If anyone on that ship knows what love looks like, it’s Lance. 

“You’re in love with Shiro,” Lance says absentmindedly, a little awed. He can practically _hear_ the serenity crumbling from Keith’s face and the atmosphere around them, mouth popped open in shock and body tensed as if ready to fight or flight at any second. Oh God, they _just_ had a conversation about fidelity and jumping to conclusions and now here he goes running his mouth about how Keith feels about his boyfriend, he has to fix this somehow— 

“Wait, wait, hang on Keith, I just meant— The way you and Shiro look at each other sometimes—” 

“That isn’t funny Lance,” Keith says harshly, effectively muzzling whatever Lance was about to say next. 

“I’m not trying to be funny, I’m just not blind,” he retorts defiantly, mouth downturned. “There’s no way you don’t notice it too. I was the last person to realize Pidge was a girl and even _I_ see those weird longing stares you give each other!”

“Why are you bringing this up now, Lance? Yes, I am in love with Shiro, but none of it matters anymore,” Keith says bitterly. He has one fist clenched at his side, another palm skywards and resting on one knee. Lance is startled by the faraway look of defeat creasing his pretty features, as if he’d given up months ago on Shiro as a whole. 

 _He had._  

“You don’t get it, do you?” Lance asks, mentally preparing to wave his own white flag. _Brace yourself_. “Shiro _wants_ you. I might have him, and he might want me too, but that doesn’t mean his feelings for you magically disappeared the second I we started dating. This _niotem_ bullshit is letting Shiro act freely with his emotions, which is probably why he’s not hiding how looks at you like a banana sundae and me a cheesecake,” he continues, staring pointedly at a spot on the floor. The words won’t stop coming and he feels like the main character in _Mean Girls_ with how much he’s word vomiting, dumping his feelings on Keith now that he has an outlet that can actually do something about them. 

“I don’t want to lose Shiro just as much as you probably hate seeing us together. Surprise, surprise, I actually like you, Mullet, and don’t actually like hurting you by dating the guy you pop boners for,” Lance laughs miserably, throat filling with bile and eyelashes dampening further with every word. Keith has gone incredibly silent but allows Lance to finish venting, only shifting to sit closer to Lance, back against the wall and knee just barely brushing Lance’s. At least Lance isn’t alone in his misery. 

“You wanna know the worst part, though?” he asks, shaking, moving to copy Keith’s position and resting his shoulder against Keith’s. Keith just lets out a soft, questioning hum, leaning his weight on Lance; solidarity of the worst circumstance. “I can’t even be mad at you. You make Shiro so happy. You’ve always made him happy, even before I was in the picture. I could never compete with how much he loves you, Keith.” 

Lance will never tell a soul, but he holds onto Keith for dear life and lets all his anguish and lamentations pour out, trusting only the Red Paladin cradling him to empathize. It feels less like a rejection and more like a funeral march, leading straight to the marble headstone engraved with the day he and Shiro started dating and ending with the day he allowed himself to realize he wasn’t the only one in his lover’s heart. Could it really be called cheating if Shiro carried a blazing, Olympic torch for Keith before he even knew Lance’s name? Can you qualify Lance’s own heart as unfaithful, split between the red dawn and purple dusk that began and ended his every fantastical blue-sky day? 

Keith tells him when he’s calm, when Lance has one ear pressed to Keith’s erratic heart and five nail-bitten fingers sealed between his own manicured ones, that he feels the same way as Lance, always scared that the only thing he ever wanted he could never have because Lance was much quicker on the updraw, words weaving innocent puppy love around Shiro and allowing him to indulge in the childish game of affection the Blue Paladin so readily offered. 

Lance absorbs the moment for what it’s worth, finding solace where he never thought was possible, Keith quietly agreeing with every sentiment forlornly expressed and never showing desire to move away from their huddled position against the wall. 

“What the hell do we do now?” Keith asks when everything has calmed, murmuring but still too loud for the silence permeating the room. 

“As much as I was looking forward to some rough, instinct-driven sex with you-know-who,” Lance starts thoughtfully, “I think we should both stay away from Shiro until this chemical wears off. We need to sit down and talk to him when he doesn’t look at us like we’re prey,” he finishes, shivering at the thought of a training room repeat. 

“We have that coalition event tomorrow, and Coran said he’d be fine by the end of it. We can talk to him the morning after?” Keith suggests helpfully, yawning a little at the end. 

“That’s… a really good idea, man,” Lance responds, glad Keith has the capacity to come up with a strategy at the moment because his brain is officially overloaded for the day. “You wanna hang out here for the night? We’re both already ready for bed, and I missed our sleepover last night,” Lance suggests, unintentionally squeezing Keith’s hand in nervousness. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Shiro? I’m surprised he isn’t done with Allura yet,” Keith responds hesitantly, but not giving Lance a solid answer. 

“Keith, what did we _just_ agree on? Besides, his ‘instincts’ probably told him to go to bed like an hour ago,” Lance chuckles, getting a small laugh out of Keith as well. “Besides, you gotta catch me up on what I missed at the Shiro/Keith Near-Death Slumber Party Extravaganza,” he goads, hoping Keith will say yes. He isn’t ready for their bonding moment to be over just yet, genuinely enjoying Keith with his walls down and hoping this is a new chapter in their relationship. 

“I guess it’s only fair,” Keith acquiesces with a soft smile. Keith helps Lance make the bed, but seems reluctant to let go of Lance’s hand when they finally disentangle from each other, and Lance tries not to think about why he doesn’t want to let go either. They settle into bed a little awkwardly, Lance taking wall side and Keith hesitantly slinking in after him, but Lance breathes out a sigh of contentment when Keith lays on his back and settles next to Lance who has a great view of Keith’s dim profile from his position on his side. “You didn’t miss much,” Keith says, eyes already closed and ready for sleep. “He just cuddled me is all. He insisted I sleep with him and that was that,” he chuckles. So _that’s_ what Keith meant when he had said ‘ever since last night’ like it was something special.

“How did he hold you?” Lance bravely mutters, allowing his body to relax and lean in fractionally closer to Keith’s body heat. Now that the situation has been debunked and they finally have their hearts on their sleeves, Lance is merely amused at the thought of Shiro pouting like a child after Keith initially refuses to sleep with him, but ultimately gives in and lets himself be held in Shiro’s warm, gentle embrace. Lance has had his fair share of run-ins with Shiro’s impenetrable kitten eyes when it came to begging for back rubs or to spar just _a little longer,_ _please, Lance?_

“Facing him, both on our sides, my head on his chest. He also worked out the knots in my shoulders,” Keith admits, a little embarrassed to be admitting how Lance’s boyfriend turned him to putty with just a few circles around his sore muscles.

“Thank God, you seem much less uptight now,” Lance jokes as a smooth cover-up. Holy hell, present Lance is kicking past Lance for even thinking about turning down Shiro’s brilliant idea to literally sleep together. He laments the idea of never having that opportunity again because who wouldn’t pay to see Keith Kogane, master of walking around with a stick up his ass, _relaxed_? He may not have them both, but he can cherish this calm downtime with Keith as they are, all thoughts of rivalries and boyfriends aside. Lance’s fingers itch to touch Keith, just to have him as an anchor in his turbulent sea of emotions, and Lance must be projecting his pining desires to the little waves going through Keith’s brain because Keith, bless his normally dense self, takes notice.

“Do you… like to be held by Shiro when you sleep?” he ventures, turning his head to face Lance directly. 

Or maybe Keith is just going through Lance’s exact dilemma and also wants to do something about it.

“Heck yeah, have you seen him? He’s like the size of you and me combined! He’s all man but his chest is like a pair of boobs, y’know? Perfect for burying your face in or using as a stress ball,” Lance responds, cocksure and anticipatory as all hell to see where Keith wants to take this. After a beat of silence, Lance places his hand gently over Keith’s heart and shifts forward just a bit to rest his head against Keith’s, foreheads brushing and breathing slowly evening out. He feels a rush of affection and relief when Keith loosely fills the spaces between his long fingers, curling in just a bit in shaky assent that _yes this is okay_.

“Just don’t touch my boobs, Lance,” Keith mutters, close enough that Lance can feel Keith’s breath fanning over his face, however doing nothing to cool the heat scalding his cheeks that he’s absolutely certain his rival-friend-support can feel in their close proximity. He can feel how wildly Keith’s heart is pounding, but he tries desperately to convince himself it’s due to Keith being unused to sharing a bed with anyone and not for any other incriminating reason whatsoever.

“No promises,” he breathes back, hoping he’s having the same effect on Keith, the stoic bastard. Lance is finally able to drift off when he can feel Keith’s heart rate slow, the rhythmically pounding pulse lulling Lance not unlike a metronome. He feels safe, genuinely accepted and wanted by Keith, something he hasn’t felt in about two months.

Lance sleeps soundly that night, dreams of holding two hands in his own, cool metal on the left and warm leather on the right, and instinctively accepts the overwhelming feeling of rightness that settles over him, warmer than his blankets could ever be.

⁂

Lance jerks awake to the sound of his door opening and Shiro softly calling his name from the threshold. After last night, the last thing he wants to do is wake up panicking, and yet here he is, feeling immediately guilty that Shiro ‘caught’ him sleeping with Keith. He’s a little cranky at being awoken from the satisfying feeling that came from his now-forgotten dreams, but he guesses now it’s time to face reality. Shiro looks a little surprised, but not upset in any way. Lance is about to start in on the _I can explain_ tirade, but Keith grumbles and reluctantly sits up next to Lance, curiously peering at Shiro just standing in the doorway. 

They all just kind of have this thirty-second-long staring contest, not entirely sure where to begin addressing the unexpected situation at hand, but Shiro takes it upon himself to speak up first, immediately addressing Keith to Lance’s relief.

“I guess your apology went well…?” he asks uncertainly, smile quirking up when Keith’s cheeks flush slightly at being caught red-handed sleeping with Lance after their emotional heart-to-heart the night before.

“I guess your apology never happened,” Keith replies easily, kicking off Lance’s blanket and standing up to stretch. Shiro winces at the obvious accusation, raising his hands in defeat. 

“Actually, that’s why I’m here,” Shiro starts, taking a couple steps into the room. Lance takes a deep breath and stands to join Keith, gently smiling at his flustered lover. “But first, can I ask why you two were sleeping together?” he asks, genuinely curious with just a hint of intrigue clouding his eyes momentarily.

“ _You’re_ the one whose rule is ‘no sleeping together the night before a mission’, not mine,” Lance shrugs easily. “Besides, it’s not fair if you’re the only one who gets to sleep with Keith without letting me know first,” he says, no malice and all tease. Shiro looks properly admonished and clears his throat uncomfortably, which Keith takes as his signal to skedaddle. At least Keith knows how to read a mood when it counts.

“See you at breakfast, Lance,” he calls fondly on his way out, leaving Lance and Shiro alone together in the Blue Paladin’s room. Shiro instantly steps up to him, making his eyes soften and arms loop comfortably around Shiro’s neck.

“Lance… I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I’d never cheat on you, you know that,” he begins, softly holding Lance by his waist. Lance instantly feels guilty for ever doubting Shiro’s loyalty to him because he _knows_ in his heart that Shiro is better than that.

“I’m sorry too, for not hearing Keith out and jumping to conclusions,” Lance replies, scratching his nails gently against the back of Shiro’s neck and up into the sheared hairs just above. “I think… we have a lot to talk about,” he starts with uncertainty, biting his lip in thought. “We as in Keith, you, and me. So Keith and I decided to stay away from you until tomorrow morning. Can you and your animal-instinct brain manage that?” he teases, just a little worried about Shiro’s answer. Lance has no idea what he’d do if he and Keith would have to tag-team the brunt of Shiro’s instincts before tomorrow, hoping and praying that their coalition meeting goes without a hitch.

Shiro’s eyes flicker with darkness for all of five seconds, staring harshly into Lance’s own blue irises like he wants to protest, but he just breathes out a long sigh and presses his forehead to Lance’s in soft reluctance.

“I’ll… try,” he manages, obviously fighting what the chemical in his brain is pushing him to do, which Lance can only assume is _take, take, take_. Lance is still kind of lamenting the loss of lots of kinky sex with his beefy instinct-driven boyfriend, but he has to be strong, for all of them. Shiro looks even more forlorn at accepting his lonely 24-hour sentence, and he instantly feels sympathizes with how Shiro must be coping with the whole situation. 

“Hey,” Lance calls softly, getting his attention. Shiro opens his eyes and pulls back just slightly, and makes a questioning hum. Lance revels in the pleasantly surprised look Shiro adopts when he whispers, “Good morning,” and pulls him down for a searching kiss. Shiro sounds like a parched man drinking from just a single cup of water after days without, simultaneously miserable at the limit of his indulgence yet savoring what he takes when it is offered. 

Just as Shiro nips at Lance’s lower lip to deepen their embrace, Lance pulls away, panting and flushed from just a little kissing. It’s not his fault Shiro is his biggest turn-on. He finds it cute, the way Shiro tries to follow his lips like a dog going with the pull of its leash. Shiro looks like a kicked dog too, the way he opens his eyes, confused, lip protruding in a small pout. 

“Come on, we need to get ready for the meeting today and I haven’t done my face routine yet,” Lance reprimands, taking the initiative this time. What a role reversal.

Shiro leaves him after one last peck on his lips, but Lance wishes he could follow and just give in to the same temptation Shiro is trying so valiantly to curb. 

⁂

After his face is moisturized and clean, Lance hops into the shower and once again makes a tough decision for the ‘greater good’ or whatever, and jacks off, resigned, while his conditioner sets. If Shiro can’t relieve him, he supposes it’s time to go back to the good-old self-love method. 

He closes his eyes and takes himself in hand, thinks of what he’d do if Shiro was in here with him, scarred skin and toned muscles on display, water beating down on his broad chest and smile brilliant as he backs Lance up against the harsh tile wall. He hardens slightly, dick interested in the image Lance’s dirty mind has to offer.

He imagines Shiro pulling his hips forward by his ass, so he reaches back and squeezes one cheek to help fuel the fantasy. Shiro loves Lance’s ass just about as much as Lance loves that Shiro loves his ass; which is, to say, a _lot._ Whether Lance is crying out from being spanked or practically purring in delight when Shiro soothingly rubs his cool metal palm across his ass during aftercare, his pride is always jacked up to eleven knowing Shiro is enjoying it just as much.

Lance tilts his head back, yearning for Shiro to kiss his neck and leave small, fast-fading bruises with every harsh suck along his collar bones, wishes Shiro was here to do it so he wouldn’t be stuck with just the phantom sensation. He sighs as he works himself to full hardness with just these little thoughts of Shiro, grip tightening just a tad and the other hand still on his ass using one finger to circle his hole loosely, no real pleasure coming from the action but nerves sparking as he replaces his hand with Shiro’s imaginary one. 

The Shiro in his head knows how to dirty talk far better than the one he’s dating, he will admit; his endearing boyfriend usually just responds to his own goading when it came down to it, but once Shiro got on the ball, he got it rolling. 

 _“You want me to go a little faster?”_ Shiro asks him in Lance’s head, grinding his thick length against Lance’s hip as he works his hand over Lance’s erection. He’d keep his lips close to Lance’s ear in order to keep quiet in the public space and to ensure Lance heard every last word dripping from his silver tongue.

Lance speeds his hand up after whimpering a soft _mhm_ in assent, which results in an evil chuckle from mindscape Shiro. God, if Lance is already this turned on with just the thought of Shiro, he can’t wait to get some actual relief with _real_ Shiro. Shiro takes a hand off his ass and uses it to stroke Lance’s sac, which the Blue Paladin imitates in real time, moaning at the combined sensation of coordinating his strokes with both hands.

  _You’re being so loud, baby. What would someone think if they heard you?”_ he imagines Shiro admonishing playfully. He gasps and rubs his thumb repeatedly over the head, smearing the pre gathered there. God, Lance can only imagine, horrified, if someone on the team walked in right now— 

A locker bangs open in the distance, then clothes rustle, and Lance at least has the decency to jump a little because of _course_ the Shiro in his mind has damned him with the bad luck of a pretty good fantasy. The shower stall directly next to his fills with the splatter of water coming from the showerhead and he instinctively groans with misery. 

“Lance? That you?” Of course it’s Keith. Of _course_ fantasy Shiro cursed him with Keith right in the middle of trying to get off to make it through the day. 

He scrambles for something to say but his first thought is Shiro whispering into his ear, “ _Oh you_ want _Keith to hear, don’t you?”_ which immediately has slightly-waning erection back full force. 

“Y-Yeah, it’s me, buddy! What-What are you doing here?” Lance asks stupidly, panicked, and shamefully working a hand over his dick. What is going _on_? He doesn’t want to dwell on why that thought fires so much pleasure through him, the idea of Keith hearing him jack off, possibly even _knowing_ —

“I’m… showering? You know I always shower after morning training before breakfast,” Keith replies, rightly confused at Lance’s odd question and tone of voice. “Are you okay?”

 _“If only Keith knew just how ‘okay’ you were, sweetheart,”_ Shiro evilly croons in his head. Shiro would never actually condone masturbating with someone else in the room, but that must say something about what his subconscious wants if his fantastical Shiro is talking to him like this.

“I’m fine! Shiro apologized and he—” he cuts himself off with a muffled moan as he thumbs just under the head harshly then resumes his strokes, feeling closer than before Keith walked in. “—agreed to what we talked about last night,” he finishes uneasily, hoping the water is muffling enough of what’s actually happening for Keith to brush it off.

“ _You want him to know exactly what you’re doing, Lance, don’t deny it. You wish you didn’t have to touch yourself all alone in the shower. I’m sure if you asked nicely Keith would make you feel good, he’d be good to you, baby_.” 

“It isn’t really a matter of ‘agree or disagree’ since we decided, but I’m glad he knows what’s going on,” Keith answers, water hitting the tile harshly; he must be rinsing out his hair.

Lance is losing his mind _because_ of his mind but he can only mourn the realizations his subconscious is bringing to the forefront of his mind in the shape of Shiro dirty talking him. He’s doomed, he thinks, incredibly close to coming.They’re quiet finally, each going about his business, but that means there’s a higher chance of Keith noticing what the sounds coming from Lance’s stall amount to. He’s almost to orgasm, ready to be done with this whole situation and finish his shower, just a couple more tight tugs—

“ _Say his name.”_  

“K- _Keith_ —” he softly moans into the hazy steam. 

The shower room is silent and Lance is mortified because there’s no way Keith is oblivious to what just transpired after the way he called his name. They say nothing, and that’s probably scarier than addressing the situation for what it is in Lance’s opinion. He turns the water down to quell the heat staining his face and hurriedly rinses out his conditioner, ready to just get the hell out of there. Keith is unnaturally quiet but Lance hardly has time to dwell on it because he’s drying off and redressing at record speed.

He’s so focused on the task at hand that by the time he’s to the exit, he almost misses the airy “ _Lance…”_ that rises with the steam. 

Almost. 

⁂

Lance has a pretty good idea of what went down after he left the showers because he isn’t that dense. They both have blackmail now, so Lance figures he and Keith can just proceed like nothing happened. Lance qualifies it in his head with some formula along the lines of ‘two Happenings cancel each other out to make a Nothing’, so he has no problem keeping a straight face when Keith plops down next to him at the breakfast table. 

“How’d your shower go after I left?” Lance has the smug audacity to ask. 

“About as well as yours before you left,” Keith shoots back, digging into his Hunk’s newest version of pancakes that held the consistency of pudding. 

Lance can’t argue with that, so he shrugs and eats his own breakfast. Every now and then he’ll peek up to see Shiro sitting dutifully across from him, voracious eyes trained on the way Lance runs his tongue over the spoon before noisily sucking it into his mouth. Keith picks up on the situation almost instantly, gaze trained to observe Shiro from afar after all this time, and elbows Lance in the side, almost causing him to choke on the soft food. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be riling Shiro up while he’s still under the influence of space chemicals, but Keith didn’t have to jab him that hard! Before he can jab Keith back, Allura effortlessly defuses the atmosphere by addressing them for the coalition debriefing.

Lance is only half listening as Allura speaks, one hand propping up his cheek and the other idly stirring around the last of his breakfast; but he perks up when Allura mentions a party after their dinner scheduled purely for formalities.

“You will each need a dance partner, as is custom for Jaxorian ally balls. You should not be seen without at least one person accompanying you at all times, whether they be a native of Jaxoria or someone of our own team. It makes us look like we are unwilling to socialize and get to know those around us, much like how the Galra act,” she explains. They’re going to a party and he can’t even dance with Shiro? This couldn’t have waited one more day? “I have informed our hosts ahead of time that we will be leaving the ball about two hours before it is scheduled to end because I want you all well-rested. You all are dismissed to change into your armor,” she finishes, turning on her heel to go put on her own pink armor.

He could just tag along with Pidge and Hunk until he finds a local to swap feet with; at least it would take his mind off Shiro. But then it would leave Keith all alone to avoid Shiro by awkwardly mingling with the aliens around him or following Pidge around the entire time, and Lance doesn't consider himself that cruel. 

The only logical option is sitting right next to him. 

“Hey, Keith,” he starts as they stand from the table. Keith turns, a question poised on his tongue, but is rendered speechless when Lance takes his hand and bows deeply, a light peck dramatically placed on the single square of skin visible through the cut-out in his gloves. “Will you be my plus-one?” 

Keith stares at him for a moment, flustered and unsure of how to respond, which Lance gives himself a mental high-five for. He definitely doesn't expect Keith to turn the tables on him and actually play along. 

“What a coincidence; I was going to ask you the same thing,” Keith smirks, tugging on their joined hands to send Lance yelping in surprise and toppling to the ground. 

“If this is how you dance, I rescind my invitation,” Lance huffs, brushing himself off. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Keith replies, tossing a glance at Shiro over his shoulder. Keith smiles, ever so slightly. Lance follows his gaze, a little frustrated that Keith not only knocked him on his ass but now he's making googly eyes at— 

Shiro looks ready to pounce on the two paladins he desires most, hands clenched and steps paused, hesitant, the logic of listening to Lance and Keith’s request warring with the urge to go with them to change. 

Shiro’s jealous. 

“And you got onto _me_ for teasing him earlier, asshole,” Lance mutters, grabbing Keith’s elbow and tugging him away. 

⁂ 

While Allura and Shiro smooth-talked their way into an alliance with these people like it was a cakewalk, sealing the deal with the enticement of a small portion of that extra ore they mined,, the limb paladins took the time to butter up their brand new allies. Just like in training, they paired off as arms with legs, Pidge and Hunk entertaining small circles of Jaxorians with technological talk and Keith and Lance sharing Earth customs and learning Jaxorian ones. 

The Jaxorians were a lot like those blue aliens from _Avatar_ , Lance thought; they were bipedal and ridiculously tall, two eyes and a mouth to speak with, except their skin was the color of onyx and sparkled in clusters, almost like larger freckles. Lance definitely found their species attractive and had no shame in commenting on the long, flowing hair each had done up in various styles or the way a ball gown fit onto a body. Numerous Jaxorians give them their undivided attention throughout the night, most approaching Lance due to his obvious openness, but a few seek out Keith to hold a conversation with, something Lance can’t help but smile about. 

Keith tentatively tries new foods (and stealthily spits them out), or talks about his hand-to-hand combat techniques with curious natives while Lance puts on the charms. He hadn’t expected much to come out of Keith being his ‘plus-one’ other than dutifully staying near another person the entire time, but Keith, weirdly enough, makes it a point to include Lance in his own conversations, or offer those bits of food to Lance before he taste-tests them ( _“This tastes like ass.”_  

 _“Why are you making me try it, then?”_  

 _“I thought you liked that.”)._  

If Lance didn’t know any better, he would say Keith is actually having fun as his date to the Jaxorian party.

It dies down a couple hours into the party, most attendees dancing in groups of up to four aliens, and Lance is confident in saying that this allyship ball was a total success. Somewhere between the meet-and-greets and wandering the floor, Keith’s hand had landed on Lance’s elbow, gently holding him close like he was afraid Lance would leave. If Lance actually left, it would cause a political nightmare, plus he’d never do that to Keith anyways.

Not when Lance is enjoying Keith’s company just as much. 

“Hey, Keith,” he starts after a lull of silence, idly scanning the room. 

“Hey Lance,” Keith returns. 

“I think that guy wants to dance with you,” he says, turning Keith’s gaze to a shy Jaxorian. The poor guy keeps looking over at them, eyes flitting hesitantly between Keith and Lance and the dance floor where many couples and trios are gleefully singing and dancing to the sound swirling around them. Lance almost feels a little jealous he didn’t think of asking Keith to dance with him first, but if Keith goes off, he’ll just have to find a single Jaxorian to partner up with (not that he’s complaining). 

Keith squints a little, turning ever so slightly to speak with Lance conspiratorially. “No way, he obviously wants to dance with you. He’s looking right at you!” he argues. The guy openly stares at where Keith’s hand is cradling Lance’s arm, a little disappointed if Lance isn’t mistaken. Then it hits. 

“He thinks we’re together,” Lance concludes, a little giddy at first because how funny is it that someone thought he and _Keith_ of all people were together, right? If Shiro were anywhere near him the alien would know it’s a different story, considering Lance is hardly able to keep his hands off Shiro while they’re in public, much less at a party where it’s acceptable to be so open. 

On the other hand, Lance and Keith must have been acting like a couple enough to warrant someone thinking of them as such. 

“We should go dance with him,” Lance suddenly decides, already making a beeline for the Jaxorian. Keith is tugged along after him, spluttering a thousand disagreements, but allows himself to be dragged anyways. If he thinks Lance and Keith are a couple, then dammit, Lance is at least going to get some good dancing in while he still can, and all without leaving Keith alone to ruin their alliance. God, what a good friend Lance is. 

The poor Jaxorian looks absolutely terrified when Lance comes to a stop in front of him, Keith in tow. The glitter clusters on his cheeks shimmer wildly, eyes wide and shoulders pulled taut like he can’t believe they want to dance with him. Lance conceitedly thinks he’d feel the same way if he were in this guy’s place. 

“Well hello there, beautiful. The name’s Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron, and this is Keith, Red Paladin. You look like you needed a little company,” he flirts, eyes lidded and gaze appreciative. These aliens remind him of the night sky on the beach with their ichorous skin and starbursts doppled like constellations, cloudy sclera surrounding full-moon pupils. 

“Hulex,” the Jaxorian responds, shaking a bit as he takes Lance’s outstretched hand. The clusters on his cheek seem to be actively shimmering like a star amassing light in preparation for supernova. Lance doesn't blame the guy; he and Keith's faces are probably no better because he's _really cute_. 

Keith looks confident as he steps around and takes Hulex’s other hand, and Lance can feel his ego inflate at how sociable he's made Keith. He could get used to stepping onto the scale and balancing Keith out like this. Although, it's a little weird to not have everything be a competition; weird, but nice. 

Keith locks eyes with him and takes it one step further, pressing rose quartz lips to an onyx hand, eyebrow quirked like the red cloth of a matador. Blood pumping and smile wide, Lance leads them to the dance floor. 

He takes it back; Keith without competition is like a party without dancing: boring. 

⁂ 

As much as he’d love to engage in a little bump and grind, Keith would likely knock him flat on his ass before it got anywhere near him. Although, the moves Hulex teaches them are actually kind of cool, long arms held high over his head as he spins both Lance and Keith around and around, joyously laughing when Lance dramatically allows himself to be dipped low, when Keith's short arms do their best to spin Hulex in return. Lance locks fingers with Keith, their arms encircling their guest before pressing him close between them, Keith to his back and Lance to his front. It's fun, uncoordinated, but never without that spark of one-upping the other. 

It'd be a lot more fun if Shiro were there instead of this alien imitating his colors, but Lance takes what he can get, especially if Keith is in the package deal. He can't get sad now; the party should be over soon anyway and he hasn't been able to let go like this in _ages_. He should ask Shiro to dance with him more often, he thinks as Keith steps aside to let Hulex twirl him. He could play the music he listens to at bed, just the two of them, swaying along with the stars passing by the full window of the observatory. 

He wonders how Shiro would hold Keith as they danced. 

He comes out of his twirl, a little winded, but prepares to swap with Keith when his friend in question is grabbing his arm and pulling him bodily away from Hulex, who looks confused but elated from the dancing. 

“Thank you, Paladins!” he calls after them. 

“Keith, what's—” 

“Shiro’s saw us and we need to _go_ ,” he pants, ducking into the hallway leading them out of the Jaxorian palace. So what if Shiro saw them? He glances back, mentally scoffing at Keith's obvious overreaction. It's not like— 

Shiro is practically seething with want as he gains on them, the curl of his lip and the sweat on his forehead the tell of a man deprived, his prize hanging just in front of him. Oh, and Shiro is also glaringly hard in his flight suit. 

“Let's go to my room, I can lock him out,” Lance answers as they board the ship. Keith seems almost afraid as he follows Lance down the twisting castle halls. Lance quickly wonders why they're _running_ from Shiro liked he'd actually... “He wouldn't hurt us, Keith. Whatever happens he won't try anything we don't want. He's too good for that, even with a stupid chemical in his brain,” Lance assures, grabbing Keith's hand and pulling him along. 

The chase is what always leaves him wanting more, both with Shiro and Keith, but not like this. 

“I know he wouldn't,” Keith huffs, slowing to a stop as Lance hastily unlocks his door. Lance wrangles Keith inside and slips in just as Shiro rounds the corner. _Shit._  

He takes in a deep breath and drops against the door, wondering what they're actually hiding from; it's just Shiro, the brave man they both fell in love with, who apparently wants them too— 

They can't help but jump when Shiro pounds his metal fist against the door. “ _Lance, Keith!_ I need to talk to you, open the door,” he commands, voice harsher than either of them are used to. 

“Not until you let your brain do more thinking than your dick!” Lance shoots back, warily looking at Keith as he speaks. If they're doing this he's at least going to be comfortable; armor pieces are hastily tossed off, Keith quickly following suit. 

“Let me in or I'll have no choice but to—” 

“To what, Shiro? Break the door down? Force us to let you have your way?” Keith yells back. Keith's boots slam heavily into the door when he flings them off. Lance realizes how frustrating this must be for Keith; having to watch Shiro’s normally compassionate and understanding demeanor be transformed into a selfish monster by a Galra chemical can't be good for his stress levels. 

Shiro goes immediately silent. Lance shrugs off his suit and silently pulls on his baseball tee and sleep pants, offering an extra T-shirt to Keith as they wait for Shiro to come to his senses. 

“I would… I would _never_ hurt you two,” Shiro quietly admits, voice wobbly and weak. Lance thinks Keith just snapped Shiro out of a chemically-induced sexual sleepwalk and Lance has never been more aware of how special the Red Paladin is to Shiro. 

“There you are, Shiro,” Keith responds quietly, hand pressed to the door as if he wants to reach through it and grab the Black Paladin. “Lance, can we let him in? I think he's okay now.” Keith really didn't need to put on the pouty child facade; Lance would have said yes anyways. 

Lance expected the downpour of apologies; he expected Keith to open his arms for comfort; he expected Keith to reassure him that _it wasn't your fault, Takashi, Lance and I are fine, it's fine, you're okay_ ; Lance expected a lot of things when he opened that door, but he wasn't expecting the comet trails on Shiro’s cheeks that dampened Keith's (Lance’s) shirt. 

Seeing Shiro cry is a lot like seeing a Galra cry, in that it doesn’t happen. Every nightmare Lance held his lover through, every lost life on missions, every awful story Shiro recounted from his days in captivity and not a single tear shed. He takes Shiro’s hand; coaxes him to un- and redress into spare clothes in Lance’s room leads all three of them to the bed and accepts the slew of apologies Shiro dumps onto him. It comes down to absolution of the self, Lance figures; Shiro has committed his fair share of sins, both in and out of war. The lives of many rest on his shoulders, Voltron’s Atlas in a way, but anonymous aliens are just statistics, a wartime commonality compared to the chains that bind Shiro when he truly hurts his loved ones. 

Lance and Keith are here, alive, where he can keep them safe from harm. No use crying over spilled milk, and all that. 

“You know I just _hate_ to agree with Mr. Grumpy-Pants over here, babe, but he's right. You're not the big bad wolf the _niotem_ tried to turn you into,” Lance softly teases, forgiving Shiro for— for what, threatening them? _Scaring_ them? Lance has seen worse. Besides, he's trying this new thing called having faith in his boyfriend. 

Shiro’s sniffles die out after he not-so-subtly blows his nose into Lance’s _clean shirt_ , _that's so gross, Shiro!_ He laughs at his own childish behavior and just suggests Lance take it off since it's dirty now, and Keith smugly agrees, settling down behind Shiro and easing his arm around his middle. 

He can't find it in himself to argue. Lance just strips off the shirt and settles in, Shiro’s head nosing into his throat and Keith's hand gently brushing his bicep. 

“We're sleeping here tonight, Lance,” Keith announces, voice muffled into Shiro’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah, at least you'll be the one on the floor in the morning, Keith,” Lance answers, not sure he'd be able to let them leave even if they wanted to. 

“I love you,” Shiro mutters to neither of them, both of them, snuggling back into Keith's hold and kissing Lance’s throat once. 

Keith squeezes his arm. Lance flexes in response. They're both sharing the same thought, Lance is certain of it: 

 _They’ll make it._  

⁂ 

Lance was right, he’ll boast later; Keith ends up on the floor. But only after a very rude emergency alarm blasts them awake. He’s used to getting cockblocked by these damn things, but this time it’s prolonging the inevitable, something that _actually_ matters in the long-run, which is about the last thing they need because they might need to form Voltron and they still haven’t had their big life- and relationship-changing talk! He doesn’t even get to bask in the warm feeling of waking up to both Shiro and Keith, serene and silent and wrapped around each other and him. Keith has similar feelings, judging by the groggy curses he mutters as he throws on his armor. At least it’s all there where they tossed it off the night before, Lance muses as he redresses urgently with his fellow Paladins (and bedmates). 

When they arrive in the hangar, Allura dispatches them to their Lions and quickly explains that A: the castle-ship is under attack and B: it’s the _same_ guy that worked as Lotor’s distraction when Shiro got blasted. 

“Thin the herd, everyone. Take out as many of the drones as you can to clear our path, then we form Voltron and take out the two battle cruisers. They can’t take Voltron without a ship to do so,” Shiro smoothly orders as everyone begins the fight. 

“He’s back _again_?! This is ridiculous! How many times is he gonna go running back to Prince Douche Canoe before Lotor realizes he put too many Galra eggs in one basket?” Lance vents through the comms, immediately prepping Blue’s sonic cannon to put the flurry of drones in his wake out of commission. 

“Did we ever figure out why Lotor attacked us in the first place?” Pidge asks angrily, firing the Green Lion’s vine cannon at a swarm of drones. 

“I have an answer for that, actually,” Allura pipes in, blasts echoing in the background as they bounce off the particle barrier. “Coran found that your feeds had been momentarily tapped in the first battle, post-excavation. Lotor must have heard the lacking in your— _Coran, the left!_ —your cooperative skills as Paladins, decided Keith was the most volatile at the time, and targeted him,” she concludes. 

“We can’t form Voltron if we aren’t all on the same page, especially when it comes to relationships,” Pidge concludes. 

“Let’s hope that _niotem_ didn’t actually do its job on Shiro and leave you and Keith on FUBAR status or we’re screwed, man,” Hunk comments to Lance, a little panicked and winded. _Yeah, let’s hope,_ Lance thinks. 

“Lance, Keith.” Shiro’s handsome, scarred face pops up onto his screen; the reason he’s fighting so hard in this war. 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Lance flirts, taking out two drones aiming for Yellow’s hull. 

“Wasn’t it your flirting that got us into this mess in the first place? As usual?” Keith chides tiredly, popping up on his screen right next to Shiro. 

“Actually Keith, it was because you don’t know how to talk to people, _as usual_ ,” Lance fires back, finishing off five more incoming drones. At least they’re making a visible dent in the amount of ships surrounding them, but that means it’s almost time for… 

“We’ll talk later, but right now I want you both to listen to me.” Shiro doesn’t have to do much to keep his attention, but the quiet seriousness in his voice speaks louder than his usual commanding tone. “No matter what happens after this, we need to form Voltron, no holds barred. The universe needs us and we can’t let our emotions interfere with that,” he states objectively. 

“The universe may need Voltron, but we need you too, Shiro,” Keith interjects, a serious furrow to his brow as he focuses on the task at hand. _We._ Keith is right. He can’t do this without Shiro; he can’t do this without Keith. “Trust us.” _Us._  

Shiro seems satisfied because he shows them both a dazzling, relieved smile that has no place in their current situation but is more than welcome nonetheless, and disappears from his monitor. Shiro’s smile is like an energy drink mixed with Popeye’s spinach to Lance, and he thinks he sees the Red Lion take out the last of the drones not seconds later; but he can’t be too sure. 

And when Shiro calls their signature phrase, they have no problems driving out their little Galra problem once and for all. 

Hunk calls for a wormhole jump the second they return. No one argues. 

⁂ 

Why does _his_ _room_ have to be where all the drama goes down? Can’t they do this in Keith’s room or the kitchen or from the cowardly safety of their respective cockpits? They all “just happened” to be sitting in a circle facing each other on _Lance’s_ _floor_ , sitting on _Lance’s bedding_ like some makeshift pallet. In all reality, Lance should probably change his sheets after having two different people sleep in them on various occasions in the past week. This is all Keith’s fault; he should make McMullet do the laundry. Lance never asked to have his heart split between the two of them like they’re evenly sharing the last cookie. 

“I guess I’ll start,” Keith says with a defeated, surprising them both. They all thought Shiro would be the first to step up to the plate, but the poor guy looks even more nervous than Lance and Keith combined. “Shiro, I think you should know that…” Keith takes a deep breath. Lance rests one palm on his knee for support. “That I love you. I have for a while, which Lance thinks was totally obvious, but you never said anything, and I couldn’t ruin what we had, so I stayed quiet.” Keith says all this looking straight into Shiro’s eyes, which totally doesn’t put pressure on Lance, none at all, thanks Keith. 

Shiro looks visibly relieved, shoulders slumping with the loosened bowstring that pulled taut, face alight with a tired kind of joy like someone just released him from surgery after hours of labor. Lance internally chuckles because he’s sure they can all relate to being put through the emotional wringer. 

“I love you, too,” he says with no hesitation. Keith seizes up, grasping at Lance’s hand in evident worry and happiness; Lance squeezes back, sure they’re thinking along the same lines once more. What does this mean for Lance? “Lance, I—I’m sorry.” Lance’s heart sinks. “I never stopped loving Keith even after we started dating, so I guess I can be considered an emotional cheater. You should know that I love you too. You and Keith are both in my heart, as equals, and I don’t want to lose either of you. How we proceed all depends on you at this point, Lance,” Shiro finishes, taking Lance’s unoccupied hand in his own for reassurance. 

“You’re damn right it depends— Does Keith like me?” Lance turns on him, eyes hopeful and bright, already knowing what he wants. He has his answer. 

Keith’s cheeks immediately flush like he just got caught with his pants down, and in a way, he had; this was Keith at his most vulnerable, not able to stand a chance with both Lance and Shiro double-teaming him. Lance decides to throw him a bone.

“Because, I think it’s safe to say that I like you.” 

Keith, cliche as hell and never straying from script, lets his actions speak louder than words and dive bombs Lance with a swift kiss to his lips, lasting no longer than a few seconds. When he recovers from the shock of just having _kissed Keith_ (who is he kidding, Keith kissed him and left no time for reciprocity), he turns conspiratorially towards Shiro, who has his regular bedroom eyes turned in their direction, no trace of alien instinct-enhancers in them (which is how Lance likes them). “I think Keith needs a lesson in fairness, don’t you, Shiro?” 

“He certainly does, Lance,” Shiro agrees, leaning over to Keith, hesitant and silently asking for permission, the way it’s always been between them. Keith goes easy, releasing Lance’s hand to hold Shiro’s jaw tenderly, the atmosphere thick fog and low piano music. When they come together, their lips slot together as if this is their hundredth kiss rather than their first, well-worn house shoes versus brand new heels. Keith’s bottom lip trembles; he’s waited years for this, Lance realizes. They lowly _pop_ apart after a few seconds, the time equal to Lance and Keith’s, and the fog lifts, Keith’s hand coming back to Lance’s like a boomerang. 

“Nope. No way. We’re not dating until I get a _real_ _kiss_ , Keith,” Lance starts, mouth a little dry, because he gets it now. 

“Who said I wanted to date you guys?” Keith says, but quickly backtracks at the twin crestfallen looks Shiro and Lance give him. “Kidding! Kidding.” 

“You’re the reason I have white hair, Keith,” Shiro breathes out, delighted. Keith leans back in and steals another kiss from Lance, this time giving Lance ample opportunity to customize it with little nips to his lower lip and swipes of his tongue to test the waters. Shiro impatiently pulls Lance away the moment they separate, stealing his own tender smooch and Lance’s breath along with it. “I love you, Lance.” 

Coming to terms with Shiro: easy, much like the man himself. Shiro rarely puts up a fight and is happy to indulge Lance in whatever is asked of him, with limits, of course. Shiro shares his experience with Lance to help him improve, and in turn Lance gives Shiro a sip of the fountain of youth his responsibilities have sucked from him. He’s ridiculously handsome, a true Adonis he’s sure many would snatch up in a heartbeat if only given a single look. Once he got over his hero worship in the beginning of their relationship, he was able to really see Shiro for who he was: just another guy trying to save the universe and get a minimum six hours of sleep like everyone else on the ship. Falling in love with Shiro was effortless, like being stuck in a perpetual honeymoon phase.

 “I love you too, Shiro.” 

Coming to terms with Keith: difficult, much like the man himself. Keith always puts up a fight and constantly pushes Lance’s limits. They pinpoint each other’s weaknesses then turn around and strengthen them. Keith is effortlessly attractive, unobtainable in his own right with piercing eyes and a passionate heart anyone would be lucky to love. Once Lance got over his rival complex, he was able to see Keith as someone with actual emotions and trust issues and not the stone-cold bad boy he once upheld the idea of. Accepting his attraction to Keith and the inevitable crush that followed took time, much like their relationship as a whole. They’ll jump headfirst into love when time melts from one point into another. 

Keith keeps him on his toes, always challenging him to do better. Shiro is there to catch him when he falls, always giving Lance the support he needs to keep going. 

They fall back asleep on their pallet after all is kissed and done. It’s familiar, in a way he can’t put his finger on: cool metal on the left and warm leather on the right. 

⁂ 

“Watch your tail, beautiful, you almost nailed that mountainside like it was Shiro after his morning shower,” Lance calls, dodging another earthy pillar just barely. 

“You obviously have no problem watching it for me, considering you’re _behind_ ,” Keith taunts, speeding ahead and blasting Blue’s windshield with dust as a result. 

“Speak for yourself, baby,” Shiro says, just barely ahead of Keith’s lion as it is. 

“I am personally going to kill Prince Lotor if we ever see him again. We have to listen to this shit twice as often during training mow thanks to him!” Pidge complains, weaving between columns of earth. 

“Suck it up, Pidgey, we're in _love_ and you're just jealous. Isn't that right, Boyfriend 1 and 2?” Lance calls from his end. 

“No,” Keith says at the same time as Shiro says, “Yes.” 

⁂ 

Later, when they’re just on the cusp of unconsciousness, Keith presses a single, lingering kiss to Lance’s nape and whispers, “Yes.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i originally planned to add a threesome just because what's a culturally acceptable shklance fic without one, right? however, i was a little worried it would disrupt the atmosphere i accidentally wrote? i may? tack on a short (keith-centric) epilogue? who knows.
> 
> thank you for reading this, and i sincerely hope it evoked emotion from reading just like it did when i was writing.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me one-on-one via [twitter](https://twitter.com/icarosian) or my less used [tumblr](http://icarosian.tumblr.com/)


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